Plot Bunnies, ANs, and other misc
by AngorMike
Summary: Mostly plot bunnies, with an extra long AN in chapter 1 cause I felt like putting it there.
1. AN for Becoming Clark Chpt 3

So a few readers have left questions and suggestions for me in the comments. Thank you for taking the time to do so, I appreciate it. Anything that helps me become a better writer helps me to achieve what I hope to do by writing, entertain people, especially myself. (/chuckle)

I thought about posting this as an Author's Note in the next chapter of Becoming Clark, but it just got too long. I don't want to break the immersion or bore/irritate the readers who clicked there for a story, not my stupid ramblings! So I'll leave a short AN message to come here if they are interested.

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In my story Becoming Clark I haven't explicitly stated everything I think about the character's motives and why he's doing what he's doing or why he's going about it in such a way. I'm not trying to sound like some great intellectual who is playing a chess game so deep, nobody understand it but me. Rather it's a problem as the author of "how the hell do I show rather than tell?" If I just write an essay of his motivations, it is incredibly dull and seems like the author is lecturing his audience. Boring.

I'm trying to write the story of a man who is basically given cheat codes upon his rebirth. If he wanted to he could, in an instant, be powerful enough to destroy the earth. But that's not what he wants to do. That's not his (pause for melodrama) _Motivation._ He wants to build something up, and propel his fellow humans into the stars. (he still thinks of himself as human, having lived as one for several decades in his past life)

After my grandfather passed away, one of the things my dad told me about him was that his favorite author was Louis L'Amour. So I read a lot of his books. I loved them. L'Amour's main characters were all men, naturally, since he wrote mostly westerns. They could be gregarious or the silent type. They could be clever and scheming against those that try to scheme them, or they could be the frontal assault type that just don't put up with shite from anyone.

There is one snapshot of a character stuck with me. The man was a cowboy, and a lot of his time was spent riding his horse alone as he worked. So he had a lot of thinking time. At night he'd read a few pages of whatever books he could get hold of. Books by great thinkers, law makers, and those that explored what it means to be human, to be a man, to be a member of society. During the day he'd ponder those things and how it relates to him as he went about herding cattle, building fences, and other such manual labor.

That character always stuck with me. From the outside, he's just a small time, humble cowboy. So many people in society would look down on him for being rough, for being poor, for being a wild man that doesn't fit in with society, etc. But inside, he's a man who _thinks_. A man who ponders, who has many thoughts he has no one to share with. And that dichotomy always struck me. What is the measure of a man? What is his worth? How do you know if a man has actually lived his life? Was the life he's lived what he's always wanted?

Well, back to Clark and what he's doing with his rebirth second chance. So this "normal guy" gets plopped into a new baby body that gives him cheat codes to be the top dog. But, he's still a baby. Who is going to listen to a baby? He's got to grow up first. So he's got lots of time to think as he grows up.

Some of the things he thinks of while growing up.

**First, in order to be able to have any say or influence in effecting changes, Clark needs to be able to back up what he's saying, and in such a way that will be completely convincing.**

If someone ran up to you while you're walking down the street and started telling you how he's got this idea that will make both of you millions of dollars, all you have to do is provide a little investment to get both of you started. How ridiculous would that be? It's obviously a scam, right?

But if you went into one of those investment firms, one that has a proven track record and they gave a good power point presentation with data and trends that backed up their word that they could multiply your investments with minimal risk. Well, it's a lot more believable that you wouldn't just be throwing your money away.

Poor farmboy Clark (from the Smallville show, or S-Clark), trying to tell Lex Luthor how he should stick to a good moral code when dealing with the cut throat business world is…a recipe for a falling out. S-Clark sticks to his moral code, and naively thinks that if everyone did the same, the world would be a better place. While Lex lives in a world where if you're easy to pin down (by being too honorable) your enemies will make you bleed $$$ and sometimes even actual blood.

I have my Clark realize that the best way to convince people to his way of thinking is by providing benefits to make their life better and actually solve their problems. S-Clark makes Lex know he feels disappointed in him when he doesn't live up to certain honorable codes. My Clark realizes there's certain reasons (Lex's dad's hold on the money for example) why Lex can't always do what he thinks is best. So Clark provides Lex with more options to solve his problems. Whether he takes those options? Up to Lex.

**Second thing that is inherent in Clark's motivations is that he just can't do everything for everyone. It's impossible.**

One of the themes I remember from some of the Superman stories is the dilemma that the Justice league faces. They are the **Protectors of Humanity! **But, how much do they have to hold humanities hand? In the stories where they run across a more authority wielding Justice league from different parts of the multiverse, at some point the Justice league decided, "Nope! Humanity can't handle the great responsibility of advanced tech, let's limit them so it's easier to police them and their every actions." And instead of protectors they turn into dictators and oppressors of the human spirit and mankinds desire to grow and explore.

So how does Clark avoid this problem of doing everything for everyone and (figuratively) giving his life to do the paperwork of humanity? Step 1) Don't wear the tights. Step 2) Train people up in his company to be able to handle issues so he don't have to. Step 3) Profit. (lol)

**A third thing that Clark is aware of is that great changes in society can cause great upheavals.**

The reason I made this an unspoken motivation of Clark's and writing about it in an authors notes kind of thing and telling instead of showing is that I just don't want the story to go in that direction. If I were to show the effects of Clark learning this lesson, I'd have to do something like having Clark see how everyone is all up in arms about Big Oil, and they are talking like "Once we get renewable sources of energy and get rid of big oil, the Environment and Everything will be juuust PEACHY!" (thank you Weird Al for Albuquerque)

Then Clark would be like, "Hey, I have the plans for a super generator that is environmentally friendly, easy to make, everything will be better off once I release the plans for this. Everyone will be happy!"

Then Clark would have to watch the world implode. Big oil goes out of business, millions of people are jobless. How they going to get food? Electric companies goes out of business, millions are jobless. How they going to get food? The great circle of life *cough* er the circle of economics? Well, everything is broken, billions of people are starving! War and banditry is rife! All because Clark didn't realize that breaking one industry in the great economic circle of life will cause big problems. But hey, I sure showed Clark learning that lesson!

And then my story is broken, and goes to the unfinished fanfic graveyard after only a few chapters. /cry

So Clark will be spreading his influence and changing things slowly so that humanity has time to grow and adjust its pants to fit. (what? It's a metaphor. Humanity at some point has to put on its big boy pants. lol)

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The last thing I wanted to touch on in this extended AN is Clark's relationships. *cough* I meant **RELATIONSHIPS. **So, first off, I understand that I'll get flak no matter what I do with Clark's relationships. If I avoid them altogether, some will be unsatisfied that I left out a key element in the Power Fantasy genre of fanfics. What's the point of a power fantasy if I don't give him a harem?

I generally agree in this case, so Clark will get a harem in this story.

Which leads to the next group of unhappy people, who might (now remember I said MIGHT) say something along the lines of, "Of course stupid author gives him a harem. That's so unrealistic. No girl today would let themselves be in a harem. Only One True Love is true path." Now I'm not trying to strawman anyone or say that the one true love thing doesn't happen, because it does. And I enjoy those types of story a lot as well. This just isn't one of those.

(BTW, I actually think many people's distaste for Harem stories is that they are written in a contrived manner. The girl sees the MC and immediately falls so deeply in love that they would betray everyone else in their life for him. They no longer have any desires or wishes of their own. Even if before meeting the MC they were portrayed as a driven and talented person with dreams and goals of their own. Which is a big reason why the girl was so awesome and hot in the first place. But once they get bit by the love bug, they turn into a stupid mindless follower for the MC to leave behind on his Quest For More Harem! So yeah, there are legit reasons people don't like harem stories. I can't say I won't make some mistakes that people will detest, but I'll try to keep it interesting. It's a tightrope I'm walking I tell ya! A greasy, slippery, bouncy tightrope!)

So this particular story Clark will just be so awesome, with his Powers, Money, and ability to give other people Powers, that many women will want to be with him and share the adventure that is his life. And well, he is living the fantasy. He does have a high libido because he's the **Paragon of Total Masculinity!** (love that Gurren Lagann) So as long as the girls he likes decide that they want to get in on the massive love fest that is, sorry to say, going on backstage, he's okay with it.

(Sorry readers, I know a lot of you like your lemons and limes, but I just can't bring myself to torture you with my sad attempts. I always liked William Goldman's explanation of why he didn't fully flesh out the reunion scene between Buttercup and Westley in The Princess Bride, where he basically said, "While incredibly moving to those involved, it was mostly them saying how much they loved and missed each other. So to an outsider who didn't feel those emotions, it would be quite boring. And, by the way, even fictional characters deserve some privacy, so moving on." It cracked me up, and so I reserve the right to use it. Moving on.)

Now the harem crowd can sometimes get a bit rowdy. And some might be a bit unsatisfied if every single hawt female doesn't end up in Clark's harem. "I am the Alpha of all Alphas. All girls belong to me! Every other man is a beta! RAAAHHHRR!"

I am exaggerating for (hopefully) comedic effect.

So while Clark will be getting a harem, some people will just not make the list for a number of reasons. (subject to change without notice)

1) Clark will have some friends that are guys. And good guys just don't cockblock their friends.

2) No matter how rich or handsome or nice guy you think you are, sometimes girls just won't like you. Sorry. It's also true that sometimes guys just won't take a shine to a girl, no matter how much she shows him she loves him and she'd be perfect for him. That's just the way life works. Love (the initial attraction at any rate) doesn't always have rational reasons for happening. It could be as simple as seeing someone across the room looking a certain way, and the possibility is there. Whether or not it blooms takes work, of course. So some girls just won't go for Clark. Sorry Clark. Them's the breaks.

3) This Clark is still grounded in some particular values and won't cross certain boundaries. So, no, Kara as his first cousin won't be part of his harem. I know she's hot, but she's also his cousin, so he won't be going there.

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I'd like to leave a general "Thank You" for taking the time to read my stories. Hopefully You Are Entertained! (Ah, Gladiator. /chuckle)

* * *

Clark woke up from a very strange dream.

The fact that he'd had a dream in the first place was very strange. Ever since he'd been reincarnated he hadn't dreamt whenever he slept. This was very different from his past life where he had all kinds of strange fantastical dreams.

So not only was it strange that he'd had a dream, but the dream itself was unusual for him. In the dream he'd been online reading a story about his life. Was this a wierd way for him to self reflect on his decisions since he had a second chance at life? If so his brain took a very unusual method to do so.

Looking at the time, Clark noticed he had a few hours until school started for the morning. He could tell that he wouldn't be able to get anymore sleep, so he decided to go fly for a while. It was the perfect method to clear his head. He never got tired of being able to dance among the clouds and watch the sunrise.

After playing around for a while and enjoying the beauty of a sunrise, Clark looked up. His enhanced vision let him see the various satelites in orbit. He still hadn't mustered up the courage to go into space for a solar bath. Intellectually he knew that he would survive, but deep in his gut he still was too nervous to take the plunge. It's like in that movie The Abyss where they had the oxygenated water that they could breathe. Just because they knew they could breathe that liquid did nothing for the instictive "I'm drowning" impulses their bodies exhibited.

He knew he would do it soon, if only so he wasn't too weak when world breaking danger showed up. But in his mind, it was more important at the moment to counter his weaknesses and gain actual skill in combat. That whole Halloween Incident, which is what he called his misadventures in Sunnydale in his mind, had been a perfect example.

After waking up in a female body with memories of Bulma in the forefront, he'd panicked multiple times and made some stupid decisions. He hadn't stopped to think things through before acting, and he'd almost been killed in the past by a weak vampire. The memories he'd gotten from Bulma hadn't helped, because while she was brilliant, she wasn't a fighter. As a result, he'd almost fallen to a newborn leach. Pathetic really.

But that's exactly why he needed to train his skills, so he knew what to do in combat. He now had a lot of tools, including magic. But a tool is useless if he doesn't know how to use it.

Now if he could just figure out why someone online was yelling at him in his dreams about violating rules of content guidelines. Thinking about what he's doing and planning is also part of a story, right?

Guess not.

Clark looked at the time, and sped off to get ready for school. School was self study and socializing time, and it was an important part of his routine. It kept him grounded and socialized so he didn't go off the deep end. Just because he's got a lot of power now doesn't mean he needs to turn into a megalomaniac. He's enjoying his second chance at life too much to be such a greedy narrow minded obssessive downer.


	2. Harry Soul Traveler Potter

This is a plot bunny I thought up about having Harry Potter jump to a different body in a different universe when he's killed so he can gain experience and hopefully not repeat the same mistakes that led to his demise.

When he goes to the other body he'll live the life of the other character with no memories of being Harry Potter. When he dies as that character his soul will come back to his Harry Potter body and integrate the new memories into his old memories, making an amalgam of all his previous characters.

I made it that way for a number of reasons. 1) So that his other lives lived is canon and I don't have to spend time fleshing it out and can focus on the Harry Potter world. 2) I'm lazy.

This is a sort of outline kind of plot bunny, so it's not fleshed out very well and if you have trouble following my thoughts of why the barebones story goes a certain way, sorry.

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Voldy AKs Harry Potter when he's 1.

Harry's Soul goes to inhabit Robb Stark from Game of Thrones.

Lives as Robb, Dies as Robb.

Harry's soul returns to Harry's body, albeit thinking of himself as Robb Stark, not as Harry Potter.

HarryRob grows up with the Dursleys, learning for himself firsthand how much his mother from GoTs sucked for how she treated Jon. He could have kept Jon with him as his right hand man if his mother hadn't run him off.

He realizes because of how he died how important a mistake he made by not keeping his promise because he couldn't keep it in his pants. He justified wanting the girl because of preserving the girls Honor after he deflowered her, but he lost his honor by breaking his word to the Freys. He lost sight of what was really important, his lands, his family, his revenge, because he wanted a little comfort from a pretty lady.

Because of his shitty slave life at the Dursley's and how they starve him, he realizes he's got to learn to be sneaky if he wants to eat and not be weak.

This realization and all the underhanded things his enemies did in his past life make him realize that his enemies don't deserve fairness, or his honor. His honor should be reserved for his family and allies.

He realizes that he either should have been sneakier to get what he wants (passage through the Twins) from the Freys without promising marriage, ie find something else the Freys want before going in to negotiate, or he should have kept his word to his allies once it was given.

Learning about his world, the technology, guns, bombs, etc. makes him intensely curious about history and how this advancing tech affects the world.

Before living with the Dursleys if HarryRobb was told he was going to a magic school he'd have agreed with the Dursleys that it was unnatural. But after having lived with and hated the Dursleys, anything they hate must be halfway decent, he figures. Plus it fits with his new attitude of using whatever means you have to get what you want/need from enemies.

So HarryRobb is much more proactive when he's at Diagon of getting enough books to learn about magic and the History of the wizarding world. And he's got his key from Hagrid, instead of leaving it in the care of others. He's also not a naïve 11 year old inside, so he doesn't immediately drink the Dumbles Koolaid.

He immediately labels Ron as a lackey. Hermione and her forceful ways he recognizes as her trying hard to fit in a new place, he likes her spunk. Neville's withdrawn manner he recognizes from Jon, when in the presence of his mother, meaning he expects to be picked at and belittled, so he decides to befriend him and bolster his confidence. He and his new lackey go on quest for the lost toad with Hermione and Neville, meeting and befriending many of the new kids.

Despite his sneakier ways he's still a Stark and an honorable man, plus he's found out how many of the Dark families feel about him, so he demands Gryffindor from the hat once he's seen both Longbottom and Granger going there. Got to build up his powerbase, and as the Boy-Who-Lived he's got a ready made power base.

Because of being King of the North in the past, Harry is now much more outgoing, basically turning everyone into his court, of a sorts, and not just from Gryffindor. This leads to Snape seeing him as his father's clone, and hating him all the more. Which lead to hesitation on Snape's part when Harry's broom is cursed by Quirrel, leading Harry to fall to his death.

Harry's soul travels and merges with Asuma Sarutobi from Naruto.

He doesn't have any memory of being Robb Stark or Harry Potter.

Lives and Dies as Asuma Sarutobi.

Harry's soul travels back to his body, and his memories of his life as Asuma Sarutobi merge with his memories as Robb Stark and Harry Potter.

Harry now has memories of two and a half lifetimes. One life is a young man who was pushed into the leadership role before he was ready but was growing into it. Unfortunately it was during a time of war and his mistakes ended his life prematurely.

Second Life was of the son of a leader who felt his father never gave him enough attention, so his personality developed to be deliberately laid back and not seeking to be a proactive leader. When he's given a newby genin team to train his laidback attitude and mental issues from his dad led him to spend too much time just hanging out and "being there" for his genin rookies. Unfortunately with this laid back attitude he didn't push his rookies to excel and grow as ninjas. As a result when they were out on a mission they met an enemy that was practically unkillable, and he was worn down and died as a result. His rookies weren't prepared for that kind of enemy. He didn't do a good job preparing them to make the transition from youth to leader.

(The half life is from his actual time as Harry Potter.)

When Harry wakes up in the hospital they tell him how the fall from his broom caused him to be injured and at one point his heart had stopped, leaving him dead, before they got it started again.

By this point Harry is seeing a pattern. He died at 1 and lived as Robb Stark. He comes back to his original body until he dies at 11 and lives as Asuma Sarutobi, and now he's back again. He finally starts identifying as Harry Potter, and not Robb Stark or Asuma Sarutobi, but he's still only starting to establish himself as Harry.

His life as Asuma taught him a few lessons. The impact one has on their subordinates, children included, and how not making time for them, or lazy teaching can negatively impact their lives. Basically how weighty the responsibility of leadership is.

He realizes someone is out to kill him still, and that as a leader he needs to take into account his security, otherwise he'll leave his subordinates in the lurch. He still doesn't know what happened to his team in his life as Asuma, or how his family fared after his death as Robb Stark. He quits Quidditch so he can have more time for important life saving things like training.

Before with his sword training he'd learned as Robb he'd done much exercise, but now with his ninja training his exercising raises to new levels.

Because of his ninja training he's much more suspicious. So when he starts seeing clues lying around about the stone and the protections, he doesn't buy that it's a coincidence. Someone is trying to lead him by the nose into battle. He doesn't want his people to get caught in the crossfire unprepared, so he sets up his defense association and spy network.

At the end of the year when he realizes someone has gone after the stone he informs McGonnagal of it, she blows them off like normal. Instead of going into the traps themselves, he recruits his associates and they prepare a trap gauntlet outside Fluffy's door, keeping themselves safe and protected while bombarding and capturing Quirrel, whose body finally gives out and he dies.

When they suggest Dumbledore contact the DMLE, he assures them he'll inform who they need to. Harry decides he'll see just what Dumbledore does, it will tell him how much he can trust the man.

His Defense Association mobilizes and makes sure every student has a matched wand at the beginning of second year. Harry makes sure of this after finding out Ron and Neville had poorly matched wands.

Second year all decent first years get folded into the association and receive actual training. So when people notice Ginny is acting strange, there's an intervention after Halloween. Her parents, the DMLE, and St. Mungo's are called in because Harry has learned he can't rely on Dumbledore to do what is needed for his people. They find she was being controlled and energy drained by the book horcrux.

Talking to Amelia Bones, they realize Dumbles just blew them off previously. He can't be trusted with big decisions. They can still use him for his knowledge and contacts though. No need to fall out completely unless Dumbles continues to make poor decisions.

Unspeakables called in to take care of horcrux, they don't know there are multiple horcrux. Harry asks them to run a scan on him, because his 2 deaths and other lives are very unusual. Finds out he used to be one, but is no longer. He wonders if that is why he's basically on his 3rd life, and vows to make sure he actually grows up and has kids this time. No more dying, dammit.

Unspeakables find out there were more than one, there could be more. They start search, but have no idea where to look. Dumbles still isn't volunteering info, so no one knows Tom Riddle was Voldemort so they have no idea where to start looking.

By end of November there's been notice of how some older female association members are acting strange, seem to have missing memories. DMLE is called. Memories unlocked, Lockhart arrested. Auror replaces him for DADA for rest of year. Dumbles losing more political clout, but he's not out yet.

Harry figures out some sneaky way to free Dobby. Harry feels honor bound to reward Dobby for the warning of danger. He binds Dobby as a vassal.

Summer comes along, Sirius busts out. When harry finds out he makes a point to dig for information. Talking to professors turns out useless. They never talk, sacks of shit. He digs through enrollment records. Writes to Sirius's classmates for their honest recollections. Finds out Lupin was close friends with his dad and Sirius and Pettigrew. Demands answers, Lupin tries to evade, but Harry is having none of it. If he's in danger from a mass murderer, then his people will be in danger too. And Harry can't rely on someone else to "take care of it so he can have a childhood" or other such nonsense. Get's the whole story from Remus. Wait, your friend turned into a rat? Only thing they found of him was a finger?

Once again it's proven that sharing information and working with people works a hell of a lot better than keeping your cowardly mouth shut and hoarding information. They catch Pettigrew. Have his trial a month later, prove that Sirius didn't do it. Sirius finally shows up, starts getting treatment at st mungos. Rest of third year is spent on training and solidifying his rule over everyone. Making sure his people have everything they need to succeed.

During summer Harry goes to Quidditch tournament with Weasleys, Sirius, Remus, Neville, and Hermione. When they are at top box, because of his ninja training he senses someone in empty seat Winky is keeping open. He has no proof they mean anything bad, but he keeps an eye out. When Barty jr tries to snatch Ron's wand, Harry catches him. Both Crouch's go down, get the kiss. Lol, ninja for the win.

Winky becomes Potter Vassal. She and Dobby hook up. Dobby deserves some nooky.

Triwizard tournament. Harry's name doesn't come out of cup. Year is normal. Neville asks Ginny to the dance. Harry asks Hermione. Ron doesn't ask anyone, Harry pushes him to get out of his shyness and ask a third year. He's been working on training Ron to be a decent knight/vassal. He knows how badly embarrassing social moments can go, so Harry just says NO to Ron's trash dress robes, and hooks him up, with some work to pay off the costs to preserve his pride. The association has dance and etiquette classes leading up to the dance so it's nowhere as cringe induced drama as canon. Ron doesn't blow up at anyone because Harry has been training Ron to be a proper vassal instead of lacky or volatile best friend with jealousy and boundary issues.

Last hogmeade weekend someone imperiused one of his friends to give harry a portkey. Bad move they didn't stun him first. He captures the DE and Voldemort, killing Nagini. Mirror calls Sirius, who gets the DMLE there. With voldy on ice, they can try to mine him for info and finally track down his whore cucks.

Fleur comes from behind after her poor showing in the second task and wins the Triwizard

Moody was their actual teacher. They ran lots of drills to get their spellwork and dodging to the point he wants it. Tries to convince Harry periodically through the year to sign up with the aurors.

Fudge has lost a lot of political capitol, but with help from Malfoy's bribes he's managed to stay in. Sends Delores to teach DADA during fifth year to try to run a coupe on Dumbles.

Harry declines prefect badge, it goes to Neville. He's a much more confident man with harry's help.

After first class Harry mobilizes the association to compile all they know on the Umbridge. They get her credentials, what she's helped pass into law, her attitudes, etc. With all that info they start a multi front attack. DMLE starts investigating possible crimes, Daily Prophet runs stories on how she's unqualified to teach, why is Dumbles and Fudgy putting her in, or putting up with her?

Less than a month and Umbridge is arrested, her crimes made known, Fudge is arrested for corruption. Malfoy under investigation. Dumbles loses political capitol, but because of his reputation keeps his positions. An auror is put into the defense position again.

Harry finally has enough of Snape and Dumbles shit. Mobilizes the association. Everything about the rate of potions owls and newts are researched. What Hogwarts curriculum used to be in the past versus now. What history used to be taught. Why there's no magic customs study. By april they have enough info start the smear campaign.

Leaving feast it's announced that it will be Dumbles and snapes last year, and there will be changes in the following year.

Year six, Harry is dating Hermione. Harry has an appreciation for her skills and loyalty. She's smart, clever, and meticulous with details. She would make a very good lady to help him in his duties as a lord. She can manage business, household, and other such stuff where details are important. And he feels comfort in her presence. So all his duties are filled with a woman he can love and that is loyal to him.

New dada, history, magic customs, muggle relations, potions (no Slughorn, that fat shit), maths, English, estate management, fencing, alchemy, no divination. Life is good, no problems for harry.

End of year six, Dumbles shows up suddenly one night with a rotten hand, clearly under mental duress. Tells Harry he must come, it's his destiny. Harry follows. They go to a cave, Dumbles smears blood on wall, it opens. There's a lake inside, filled with inferi. They take the boat to the island, there's a basin with potion in it. Dumbles demands Harry drink the potion. Harry asks why. Dumbles says there's a piece of voldemorts soul in the item in the basin, but the only way to get it is to drink. Harry asks why doesn't Dumbles just drink instead. Dumbles says he's killing two birds with one stone. There's also a piece of Voldys soul in Harry, and Harry must die to kill voldy. This is Dumbles last hurray, he's going to save everyone before he dies, since the last piece of soul killed him, Dumbles brandishes his rotten hand. Dumbles tries to attack harry with spells, only for Harry to poof into smoke. Shadow clone. Pew, a stealthy harry under his invisibility cloak stuns Dumbles from behind, takes his wand. Feels the power and how it connects to his invisibility cloak. Feels a connection to the stone on the ring on Dumbles hand. Takes that too. Rush of power. Harry pushes away the sensations. He's got other things to worry about right now, like taking care of Dumbles.

He force feeds Dumbles the potions, statches up the fake horcrux, and wakes up Dumbles after tying him up. Under the mental attack of the potion, Harry is able to question Dumbles about why he's so interested in him. Learns of the prophesy, how Dumbles didn't trust himself with power after he got his sister killed, tried to redeem others to prove he can be redeemed. How he set up harry's life to try to manipulate him, but give him some life before he needed to die, and so Harry's legacy would live on as the boy who lived. (Dumbles wasn't a thief, or evil you see, merely hurt, manipulative, misguided, and the dumbest smart guy around).

Dumbles final words were the secret words to his secret library under fidelus for harry to learn from, to carry on his legacy. Harry makes it quick. A beheading, just like he learned from his father, Eddard Stark. Then to dispose of his body, he chucks it into the inferi lake, where they tear the rest of his body apart.

Harry leaves and shows Sirius the note from R.A.B. They question Kreacher, find out how his brother met his end, and take the horcrux to be destroyed by DOM.

In Dumbles library is his journal and speculation of what the horcrux could be, Harry takes that to the DOM. Chances are that Voldy may have left his horcrux with his death eaters. So at end of summer the DOM finally succeed in getting the information about the horcrux from Voldebaby. DOM contacts Sirius, as head of Bellatrix's house, he can get into her vault to get the cup. DOM also gets tiara from Hogwarts. Voldemort is no more.

Seventh year starts, Harry is Head Boy, Hermione is Head Girl, they still dating. Association is still going strong, inducting new members every year and training as Wizard ninja swordsmen, magically oathbound vassals to their liege lord, the Potter of Potters.

He and Hermione are working for the long game. Mixing what he knew as a liege lord, the son of the Hokage, and a modern day British subject to make his wizard fiefdom. He ensures his vassals get all the education they need for the positions in life they seek to attain. In return they network information, honor his call to arms, and seek to attain the justice of law all while updating and integrating the wizarding world into the rest of the world around them.

Harry eventually marries his lady Hermione. They have many little lords and ladies, they change the face of the wizarding world, and not just in Britain. They jumpstart the techno magic that their empire uses to travel the stars and colonize new fiefdoms. When Harry and Hermione finally pass from this life in each other's arms at the age of 142, he doesn't live another life. He passes on to the next to join his entire family, the Starks, the Sarutobis, the Potters, and all their friends in what some tend to call the next, Great Adventure. For what is an adventure without company?


	3. Xander and Buffy have a conversation

In the show Buffy the Vampire Slayer during the Halloween episode, Larry the bully gets a little rough with Xander. Buffy jumps in and "saves" Xander from the bully by throwing Larry into a soda machine. Then Xander gets upset at Buffy for the damage she did to his reputation. I'd like to think that Xander could have had a more productive conversation with Buffy. A conversation that could cause a huge butterfly effect on the rest of the series.

* * *

Buffy, "I don't know why it's even a problem. I got the guy off your back, and you yell at me. What gives?"

Xander thinks for a moment. "Hmm, we seem to be talking different languages here. Okay, let me describe it like this. Picture this scenario. You're walking down the hall of school, when in front of everyone, especially all the girls of school, Cordelia starts making fun of you for your fashion sense."

Buffy interrupts, "But that doesn't make sense, I have great fashion sense. And I look darn good."

Xander grins back at her "That's true, you do. But Cordelia can be a bitch sometimes. So there you are, about to tell her how wrong she is in the snarkiest way possible, while implying she's blind for not seeing how good you look, thus handily putting her in her place. But before you can do that, I jump in between you two and in as loud of a voice as I can use without screaming, say, "HEY, BITCHFACE. YOU DON'T KNOW WHO YOU MESSING WITH HERE, GIRLFRIEND! MY GIRL BUFFY HERE IS VERY NICE! AND YOU'RE NOT NICE TO HER, SO YOU ARE BAD PERSON. NOW GO AWAY, I'VE SHOWN YOU WHO IS THE BOSS MAN WHEN IT COMES TO FASHION AROUND HERE!""

Buffy, cringing, just gaped at Xander in horror. "That was so of the bad."

Xander smiled slightly, "So then after Cordelia leaves from my having masterfully outdone her, I turn to you and fold my arms in satisfaction at a job well done. Are you going to thank me now for showing Cordelia her place?"

"What the hell Xander?! Of course I wouldn't thank you. That's the stupidest thing I ever heard!" Buffy exclaims while whacking Xander on the shoulder.

"Ow, by the way. And that's my point Buffy. Women have a certain way to communicate with each other while establishing your place in the social hierarchy. Men have a very different way to do the same. What you just did with driving off Larry from trying to push me around is the equivalent of me doing *that* on your behalf with Cordelia. It would totally ruin your social standing and embarrass you."

"For a guy, the kind of confrontation I had with Larry let's everyone know where we stand, socially speaking. If you can't handle the test, and break, you get humiliated. If someone who doesn't speak the guy code jumps in and saves you, it says you're weak and deserve to get humiliated."

"But that's so dumb!" Exclaimed Buffy.

"It's not any dumber than women letting fashion and looks determine social status. There's some hot looking girls that are toxic as hell, while some girls with beautiful personalities are mocked and derided. Its just how humans are. Let me give you further background on why Larry was doing what he was doing. Have you ever read our school paper Buffy?"

"Well, no. I just let Willow tell me the news." Buffy looked uncertain where he was going with this.

"Okay, here's our school paper. Look at the second to last page. Tell me what you see."

"An obituary?" Buffy gaped at the long list of names on a High School obituary.

"Yup. Think about it. A high school that has a regular obituary. That's not normal. Everyone here knows that. We all know that lots of us won't make it to graduation when we can finally blow this popsicle stand. The class that we went to elementary school with has already lost at least a third of the students. For the longest time we didn't know what was doing it. We just knew that death was right around the corner for us. Why do you think I was so willing to believe in vampires just from overhearing you talk with Giles? That's not a normal reaction for a teenager. But here in Sunnyhell, it makes perfect sense."

Xander continued. "So you show up, and suddenly the obituary count is halved. Despite what you think, we haven't been very stealthy about talking about what we battle, and word has gotten around. So everyone looks at you different. You're improving our chances of survival. Everyone knows how tough you are. And I'm one of the few that is actually brave enough to step up and run in your crew, taking on the menace that is killing so many of us." Xander pauses to puff himself up in a self mocking fashion.

"As a result I've gotten something of a tough guy reputation. Despite the fact that people still mock me for my nerdiness and bad dress sense, it's actually not malicious anymore. It's how we've always interacted, so it's how they talk to me and let me know that I'm still part of the community. As odd as it may sound, they respect me enough to keep treating me the way they've always done, instead of trying to butter me up for being part of the crew keeping them safe in some attempt to fake being friends."

"Larry the bully has pretty much the same problems at home that I do, abusive drunk parents. But he doesn't handle it with humor like I do. He really doesn't know how to, so he sometimes acts out, to prove to himself that he's not as powerless and weak as his old man makes him feel."

Buffy, with a thoughtful, yet amused look on her face, "So he was, what, testing himself against the big tough Xander?"

Xander nods gravely. "Yup, he does it at least once a month, sometimes more, depending on how drunk his old man has been. He comes up, gets a little physical. Nothing serious, just pushing me up against a wall. Then I verbally dance around and convince him that he doesn't want to beat me up, which convinces him that me, the big tough Xander, doesn't want to mess with him. Which convinces him that he's not a powerless loser like his parents try to convince him."

"And socially speaking, it proves to everyone around him that he's tough, if he's going to go up against the big, bad, me, which cements his social standing. While everyone sees that I don't resort to physical means of resolving the conflict, they know I don't fear getting physical. After vampires, why would I be scared of a little fisticuffs with humans?" Xander pauses to let Buffy really absorb what he's saying.

"So let's look at what your interruption of this monthly ritual between me and Larry says to everyone in the school. You, our tough protector and killer of evil, don't think that I, Xander, the King of Cretins, is tough enough to handle one human school bully."

"Suddenly everyone is wondering. They start asking questions like. Why does she let him hang out with her? Is it because he's only good for a laugh and a donut run? If she doesn't think he's tough enough to handle human bullies, he's obviously not tough enough for vampires. So he must be leaching off her fame, trying to build himself up through her. He's just a shallow, self serving minion."

"What? Of course you're not like that!" Buffy exclaimed.

"Doesn't matter though, that's the message that's being passed. And I'm not entirely convinced that you don't see me as a weak human, unable to protect myself. Just to let you know, if I actually got in a fight with any one student here, aside from you, I'd mop the floor with them. Depending on the students, I could even take out three or four of them at once. The only times you've seen me fight is against vampires who are a lot stronger and faster than me, and against Giles. Giles, despite what you may think because of being the slayer, is very strong and skilled, for a human of course. Giles trains hard, and he'd been teaching me."

Seeing that Buffy was looking a little depressed at what he was saying of how she'd been treating her friend, Xander patted her on the shoulder. "Don't worry about it too much, Buffy. I don't really care that much about the social standing. I was mostly just worried you would start thinking of me as useless baggage that you had to protect, and try to force me out of the slaying business. Which wouldn't work because I made a promise, and there's no way I'm backing out of this promise. I'm just proud I've been able to help you save people. It feels good. And you should be proud too, at the difference you are making here for everyone. Even Larry the Bully." Xander grinned hugely at Buffy.

Smiling once again, Buffy felt a little better as she went about her day. She had had no idea the situation in Sunnydale had been so bad before she got there. Both Merrick and Giles hadn't really focused on the good she was doing. It was always about sacred duty this, and responsibility to kill that. About how she didn't have time for a life, she had to deal with death. It had felt like the job only had burdens and negatives to it. Now she actually felt like she was doing something worthwhile. Like maybe she could be the hero Sunnydale needed.


	4. A different Steve Rogers

AN: So I'd been reading Second Chances by Ana (Anafandom) and The Holmes Estate by TheSovereigntyofReality on archiveofourown. Good reads. Very Team Stark.

A lot of the things that happens in the movies don't really hold up well when scrutinized. Like dumping the entire database on the internet and then using the intercom to tell everyone how they are infiltrated by Hydra. Like, how are the people supposed to know who is and isn't Hydra? What, just turn to your colleague and punch him or her in the face?

So as is my habit with fanfic, I start thinking, what would I do if I got plopped into the body of [FillintheBlank]? Here is a little plot bunny of a possible opening for a Captain America SI story.

* * *

"And joining us here tonight is none other than Captain America! Let's give a round of applause for him folks!" The late night talk show host, Jim Hardy, roused his audience's enthusiasm. This show was sure to blow their ratings out of the water. His show was the first interview on Captain America's Welcome Back tour, so there was bound to be many more viewers for being the first.

Steve Rogers walked on stage, waving and smiling at the audience. He was dressed semi-casually, in black slacks and a blue button down shirt, minus the tie. Steve casually walked up and shook hands with Jim, thanking him for the chance to be on his show. Steve took his seat, looking out at the audience that just kept cheering.

'Man, this is surreal.' Steve thought to himself while smiling and waving to the audience, while giving out thank yous. 'It's one thing to have viewed the memories of Captain America performing on stage, but being here in person. Feeling the emotions, the excitement, the hype. It's something else. I bet that's why rock stars and celebrities get such big egos. So much pandering going on, if they don't have a firm sense of self, it's no wonder they change so easily.'

The audience finally settled down, allowing the show to go on. Jim turned to Steve to start the interview. "Welcome, Captain, to the show. So, I'm sure everyone here is just dying to know. Where have you been?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Steve could see the audience almost on the edge of their seat. Here was a living hero for them to view. They'd grown up with stories from their parents and grandparents about him. And here he was bigger than life. They were hoping to see what made him such a respected hero.

Steve just gave a small smile before answering. "On ice." He deadpanned. After waiting a beat, he continued. "That was the short answer. The somewhat longer answer is that I was lost somewhere in the arctic and ended up nearly freezing to death. Somehow, instead of dying, I ended up cryogenically frozen. Thanks to the brilliance of the medical professionals of the military, I was thawed and revived." Steve turned to look at the cameras. "Seriously, thanks for what you've done for me, guys. I really do appreciate the second chance you've given me." Steve then turned back to Jim. "I'd also like it if you'd go ahead and call me Steve, Jim."

"Can do, Capt-Steve. So if you don't mind me asking, just how did you end up in the arctic?" Jim paused, and looked around shiftily. "I mean, you can tell us, right? It's not top secret and agents are going to descend on us any moment to silence us, right?" Jim played it up for his audience.

Steve laughed a bit, and decided he'd play it along for laughs too. He got a serious look on his face as he leaned in close to Jim. "Actually, it is top secret. I have a lousy sense of direction. I got lost." Leaning back Steve allowed the smile to return to his face. "No, but seriously. The unit I was assigned to, the 107th infantry regiment, or as they were called The Howling Commandos, was sent in on an infiltration mission. We'd gotten intel that the Nazis were developing a weapon in a certain laboratory that could seriously impact how the war was going. It was 1945 and we had the Axis powers on the ropes, so to speak. So when we heard that there was a chance of them turning the war around due to this weapon, well, nobody wanted to see that happen."

"So we infiltrated in, took out the guards, and found what appeared to be an advanced plane loaded with bombs. Us guys in the Howling Commandos weren't really tech savvy. Well, except for Johann. He'd always be tinkering with something interesting. But the rest of us were just soldiers who were really good at our jobs. So there I am in the cockpit of the Jet, trying to figure out how to sabotage it without blowing ourselves to kingdom come, when the jet suddenly takes off on its own. Really freaked me out. I didn't know jets could do that."

Steve acknowledges the laughs at his expense good naturedly. "Well, there I am, all by myself in an experimental jet plane in the air. Everyone else was smart enough to have not been in it when it took off. When a display pops up showing the jet is set to head right to Washington and bomb our military and government headquarters. Nothing I tried while messing with the cockpit made any difference. So…I started to break things, desperate to keep it from doing what it was set to do. And down I went into the drink, to be fished out many decades later."

The host, Jim, continued to ask several questions about his time in the military and as the nation's hero, Captain America. To which Steve was quite frank and honest in his rejection of the label "hero".

"No, I'm not a hero. And to be honest, I'm not a Captain either. I enlisted and I never received a commission. The whole Captain America title was given to me when I was working the war bonds circuit. We'd put on this whole play to raise funds and morale. But, after a while I started getting disillusioned by the whole schtick. I was playing this big brave super soldier on stage while the real heroes were out slogging in the trenches and fighting. While I, who was gifted with incredible physical abilities, stayed safe and sound raising funds. I felt I wasn't doing my share. I felt ashamed to be telling other Americans to sacrifice for the war effort when I was doing a pretty cushy gig. So, when the opportunity to join a unit and do what I'd signed up for came along, I jumped on it."

Steve didn't feel bad at all about talking down "Captain Americas Legacy". After all, it wasn't him that did it. There was no way he was going to play up like he was some hero.

"So, they dumped me with the Howling Commandos. And I got to say, it was a good thing they did. They were the ones who kept me alive long enough to learn from them how to be a good soldier. Without them, I'd probably have died in my first combat. So I owe those boys a lot."

Not to say that Captain America hadn't accomplished a lot and made a name for himself. But he'd rather be known for what he'll actually do in the future, not the exaggerated tales of a comic book hero.

"Nah, before I went through the experimental procedure, I was a sickly little runt. 5'3", asthma, brittle bones, no strength. And I was dumb as a stump, and too stubborn for my own good, to be honest. I was sick most of my life, so my education was spotty. Ever since I woke up, I've been trying to learn what I should have growing up, and catch up to what has happened in all the time I've been frozen. It's been a little overwhelming, to be honest. Just the cell phones alone lets me know I'm living in the future."

Besides he hadn't always been Steve Rogers. He had died in his previous life, and somehow ended up in the body of Captain America while he'd been frozen in ice. He guessed that this version of the Cap hadn't survived the freeze, which somehow allowed him to take over the body.

"Well, to be honest, I don't think many people really knew of me and what I was doing at the time. So it's not like I was the hope and hero of the war. It's called operational security. If we had published what all we could do, where we were doing it, and how, then our enemies would have known as well, and set a trap for us. I'm guessing the "Captain America" legacy got started by my close friends and associates as a sort of tribute and memorial after I took the plunge in the icy waters. Over time it became a symbol of something bigger than anything I'd personally accomplished during the war. A tribute to the bravery of the American Spirit, and what we can accomplish to make the world a better place. That right there is a symbol that's bigger than any one man could possibly live up to, especially an uneducated guy like me."

His current life and identity as Captain America had been a series of comics and movies in his previous life. Some of them well done, some of them straight up shit. And there was no way he was going to live under the heavy burden of expectations placed on "Captain America". Or deal with the fallout when, not if, he didn't live up to the hype. The crowd loves to pile on fallen heroes. Best to make sure they knew from the get go that he was just a dude. A very strong dude, but just a dude nonetheless.

"No, I'm not suggesting that there aren't amazing people who dedicate their life to making sure the world is a better place. Or who put their life on the line to save others. What I am saying, is that it feels wrong to apply the label of "hero" to me. I was just a soldier. To label me a hero feels disrespectful to all those who gave their lives during the war to make sure that we didn't end up living under despots. Those people, who made the ultimate sacrifice, are the real heroes."

That's not to say that he was shying away from fighting against threats to Earth. It was his home, and there ain't no way he's putting up with people coming to his home and wrecking shit. But there are ways and different ways of going about doing it. Jumping in the Captain America suit and becoming a gun for S.H.I.E.L.D. to use, especially while they are still infiltrated by HYDRA? Not the best way.

"What do I think if Ironman? One word, Brilliant. I've noticed that Tony Stark has suffered from excessive media attention. He can't pick his nose or fart in public without it becoming some kind of media circus. But the man himself is admirable. And he sticks by his beliefs. Look at what he's done. He's taken the company that his father founded and built it up to be a giant. He gets kidnapped and held by terrorists for several months. He escapes on his own by building his badass suit. When he'd learned from the terrorists that they had been illegally getting their hands on his weapons, did he hem and haw, worrying about losing money? No, the moment he gets back he declares that Stark Industries will no longer manufacture weapons so those terrorists can no longer get their hands on his weapons to hurt innocent people. He took a lot of flak for that, both internally and externally. But he stuck it out, and now he's bigger than ever. His company was building things that were stolen and used by terrorists. Did he rationalize it away by saying it wasn't his fault thieves got hold of his weapons? No, he builds a suit and goes and takes them back, or destroys them. Problem solved. So, yeah, I admire what he's done. He recognizes a problem, and does his best to fix it, making the world a better place."

There's no way he's going to try to live as Captain America to somehow preserve some imaginary timeline that he only knows from a few movies. There's so much that isn't covered by movies made for entertainment it's not funny. And what's even more not funny is the armies of Thanos coming for the infinity stones. What is the best bet to fight off these armies, one slightly stronger man with a shield? Not hardly. They need Tony Stark and his badass tech. They need to have a unified group of meta-humans, instead of having Captain America pining for his BFF Bucky and breaking up the team. And they need to curb stomp Hydra right out of the picture.

"Thanks again for having me on the show. I really appreciate the warm welcome. And I look forward to discovering what amazing things humanity builds in the future."

One of the amazing things Steve (as he was now starting to think of himself as, having to adopt the identity of the body he now inhabited) noticed about his new body was that the serum ramped EVERYTHING up to the pinnacle of human possibility. Which included his brain. His ability to learn and retain knowledge is orders of magnitude higher than it had been in his past life. With this kind of advantage, he couldn't figure out how in the hell Captain America couldn't become something more than just a meathead with a shield. Was the Captain just a small man with small ambitions? Once he finally got his dream body he saw no need to do anything more to learn and improve? He was always stuck in his small world paradigm of fighting bullies?

If that was the case, it was just…sad.


	5. A different Kind of Dumbledore

A different kind of Dumbledore, one who has learned from being an educator most of his life that being round-a-bout in answers to young kids usually doesn't teach them anything. Sometimes you've got to spell things out for kids to learn the lessons you're trying to teach them. Dumbledore answers Harry after Harry has complained about having to live with the Dursleys at the end of first year.

* * *

Dumbledore looked closely at Harry, as if measuring him for worth. "Let me be frank, Harry. Do you want to grow into being a man, or a mewling sprog that can't wipe his own arse?"

Harry spluttered for a bit, unsure of what to say, or think. "What?!"

"It's a serious question. I expect you to think upon it. What kind of a man do you wish to grow up to be? Do you wish to be a whiner, someone who expects everyone to do everything for you and make your life easy? Or do you expect to become your own man, master of your fate? Able to brave the hardships and weather the storms?"

"My own man?" Harry finally responded.

"Hmm, you don't sound too sure about that. From what you say, you've had a bum deal at your aunt's house. Your parents were killed before you were two years old. You were left with your mum's sister so that I could place protections which would keep all the followers of Voldemort from finding you or your family. They may have not loved you, but they did feed and clothe you. You've gotten the same education their son had. What did you plan to do with your life? From what you tell me, they weren't going to do much to help you, but what did you do to help yourself? You know that muggles have scholarships for students with excellent grades. Did you attempt to work hard for a scholarship to make your life better? Or have you just been keeping your head down while not working to change your circumstances?"

"You've barely lived for 12 years. I've been alive for over 100, and the world you live in has changed greatly from the one I grew up in. But even so I've kept up with the changes, and I know there are many things available to you that you could take advantage of to make your life better."

"When I was a fifth year here at Hogwarts some muggles attacked my younger sister who wasn't even 10 years old. They tried to bash in her head. She survived, but she lost her ability to reason, or even to control her magic. My father, in a fit of rage, killed those that brutally attacked her. The ministry in its infinite stupidity made an example of my father because they were afraid of the muggles starting a hunt for wizards and witches. He died in Azkaban prison a couple years later."

"At the end of my seventh year my sister suffered from a fit that caused her magic to lash out and my mother died as a result. So after graduating, instead of going on a trip around the world learning magic like most of my peers, I took up the mantle of the head of the Dumbledore family, and tried to take care of what remained of my family."

"I made a friend that summer who I would talk to about magic, politics, and the world. My younger brother thought I spent too much time talking with my friend and not taking care of our sister. One time he started an argument with my friend, which devolved into a duel, in our home. Our sister died as a result of my friend's spells. Naturally he was no longer my friend after that. My brother and I have never been on good terms since. He blames me for bringing that friend into our home, while I blame him for starting the fight in the first place."

"A few years later I married a good woman who gave me a son. They were visiting family in the year 1914 when the Great War broke out, and they died before they even knew what was happening. I served in that war for Britain, and it was bloody. Never had the muggles ever had a war before with all their new instruments of death. Many young people died, even as young as you."

"Before the magical world was just worried about the muggles because they outnumber us 1,000 to 1. But now, with these weapons, they were terrified. And terrified people often do stupid things. A story for another time."

"When that war finished, I threw myself into being a teacher, hoping that by teaching the youth how to live their life, I could overcome the specter of death that I always saw in my sleep as a result of the War."

"But then came World War 2, and I found out that the friend I'd made that summer after I'd graduated, the one who took my sister's life, had created a magical army and fought with the Nazis to conquer the world. My brother and I joined a unit, and we fought. We cornered Grindlewald, and ended his reign of terror."

"And ever since I've remained here at Hogwarts, attempting to teach the youth how to live their lives well. And yet, one of the most promising young men I'd seen come through these walls couldn't rid himself of his own vile hate, and turned into a monster. He started a civil war, and once more I was called to fight. It was a different fight than the great wars. There were no armies standing across from each other. It was guerilla warfare. Terrorist warfare. No one knew who was the enemy. No one knew who would be a target, until they knocked your house's wards out at 3 in the morning."

"And that was the state of affairs until Voldemort's reign of terror was ended by one toddler. A baby who couldn't defend himself from the terrorist army of a madman. A terrorist army that would love to torture and kill a baby who somehow was the cause of their Lord's downfall."

"I've told you a bit about my history to let you know that you are not the only one who has had bad things happen to him. You are not the only victim of hate or circumstances beyond their control. But it doesn't mean you have to remain a victim."

"So, no, I don't feel bad about hiding you at your Aunt's house to keep you alive. I am sorry your childhood was less than ideal. But, I ask you, Harry, what have you done to make your life better? You haven't talked to any teachers about how bad your home life is, so how are we supposed to know to help you change your circumstances? What do you want to do from now on to make your life better?"

"From what I've seen of you so far this year, you have been content to take things as they are and follow the example of your friend Mr. Weasley and not take the opportunity to study and get ahead in life. Even after you've made the friendship of the driven Ms. Granger, you seem content to play and not work to make your own future any better."

"So I ask you, Harry, what kind of a man do you want to be? What kind of a future do you want to have?"

"While it's good that you're finally asking for help to change your situation, you have left it for the last minute, and seem to expect me to wave my wand and fix it. How can anyone do anything to help you with the few days remaining until summer? If you'd been proactive you could have asked in advance to be included in your friends summer plans, to spend a couple weeks at a time with your friends. As it is last minute, you would be asking others to change their schedules to accommodate you, which is difficult. So, what do you hope to happen, and what are you going to do, in order to make it happen, Harry?"

And Harry took a moment to think back on his first year of magic school. It didn't take long for Harry to realize that Dumbledore was right. He had been letting Ron dictate how much effort he'd put into schoolwork. Before he became Ron's friend he'd been really excited about the fact that magic existed, and he got to learn it. It was his way out of the dreary mundane life the Dursleys always harped on about being the end all and be all. He had been determined to learn all he could so he wouldn't end up like the Dursleys.

But Harry had been so afraid of losing his first friend ever, he never told Ron off when he did something Harry didn't like. He'd never said no to a chess match when he knew he had an essay due the next day. He never did more than the bare minimum to get by.

And he hadn't been very fair to his other friend, Hermione. He never took her side in arguments, even when he knew she was right. Even when she was nagging them for their own good. And he didn't really like that he'd turned out like that. He almost felt like he was acting as dumb as Dudley. And didn't that thought make Harry's gut churn in disgust.

Harry thought he would have learned more magic by now, but because he'd been limiting himself to Ron's standard, he felt inadequate. And now he would be going to be stuck at the Dursleys for over two months. He wouldn't be able to practice magic, or talk about it. They would probably have him do all the chores, and lock his trunk up in the cupboard for the summer. He really hadn't appreciated the chance he'd gotten to learn magic until it was about to be taken away from him for the summer.

So Harry really began to think, and to plan out what he would do from now on, to get the kind of life he wanted to live.

While Dumbledore silently watched as Harry thought hard and began to plan, with a little smile on his face. Dumbledore so loved it when he was able to nudge a student onto the path of being the best they can be. Sometimes they required the barest hint. Sometimes they required a heavier lesson. And sometimes they never learned the lesson, no matter what you did. So it was always gratifying to see it happen, to see a student begin to take charge of their life and education. To hold on tight to life and wring everything they want out of it.

It often made his mind wander to the bittersweet memories of his lost wife and son, and speculate on how their lives may have gone if they'd lived. Being a teacher was the closest he'd be able to come to that feeling he'd had, back when his wife and son still lived. But he'd just have to make do, until he caught up with them in the next life. And when they were all reunited, his wife, his son, his father, mother, sister, and brother. Well, then that day will be a glorious day.

The start of a new adventure.


	6. Planting for the future

One of the places I go to read stories is . They have links for all kinds of Chinese, Korean, and Japanese translated stories. Some of them have really silly premises, like one Japanese story of a dude being reincarnated as a vending machine in a new, magical world. Or some guy reincarnating as a jellyfish that evolves into a Cthulhu like creature that roams the lands.

So, I thought, what if someone reincarnated into a world we all know, but lost the dice roll?

* * *

He was floating on gentle, warm currents. Not a care in the world.

He still remembered everything that happened in his past life and how he had died. He just didn't care. Because he was so damn comfortable, all his worries had drifted away. He didn't even care that he didn't have a body.

Time passed, while he was safe in his bubble of not-caring-warmth.

He felt a tug, coming from one direction, but he didn't really pay attention to it. The tug didn't really matter, because he was just too damn comfortable to care.

But then the tug started to get stronger. He was being drawn in one direction. And his warm bubble of not-caring started to slip away, leaving him to feel some small shivers of cold. The stronger the tug got, the faster he moved. The faster he moved, the more his feelings of comfort were leaking away.

He was starting to panic a bit, but he couldn't do anything. He strained away from the tug, but he couldn't regain his comfort bubble, no matter what he tried.

He was hurtling through space at what felt like breakneck speeds, chilly winds battering him, making him cold, making him worry and fret.

Then he slammed to a stop and blacked out.

* * *

He swam out of a sea of darkness, once more awake. He felt…different.

In his previous life, he'd been a 30 year old man. Then he'd been a floating spirit. And now he felt like he had a body, but it wasn't anything like what he'd experienced as a man. He was quite confused.

He felt he had a physical body again, but he couldn't move around. He didn't feel any limbs, he couldn't see. At least he didn't feel cold anymore. All he felt was pressure all over his body. Was he in the womb? Is that why he couldn't move around or see or hear?

With nothing to do, he could only wait. Wait around. And sing songs.

"Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of beer! Take one down, pass it around…"

He passed the time.

He lost track of how many songs he sang.

Then one day, he felt something move in his body. It felt like a stretching out, like he was slowly growing, and pushing against something that pressed all over his body. But he still couldn't control his movements, he could only slowly grow bigger.

Until one day, he felt this glorious feeling coming down from above. It felt/tasted like the best ice cream he'd ever had. It was so delicious, he stretched up for more of it.

Suddenly, he broke through whatever was confining him. He could peek out, just a bit, and taste the delicious feeling even more.

And suddenly he could see. He didn't know how he could see, he didn't have any eyes. He confirmed that by looking at himself, his new body. He was some kind of cross between a plant and a mushroom looking thing, just barely poking out of the soil.

And above him in the sky, he saw the full moon. The full moon was the source of the gloriously tasty ice cream.

He'd been reincarnated as some kind of plant.

He…just couldn't process that idea right now.

So he stopped thinking and focused on "eating" more ice cream. He turned into a right glutton. It's the only thing he'd tasted for who knows how long, so he enjoyed it with wild abandon.

The more he ate, the more energy he felt collecting in his new body, fueling his growth. The bigger he got, the more he was able to eat.

He ate until he saw the moon slipping down from the sky, taking his delicious ice cream with it. He pouted at the loss of his delicious treat.

The sky started to get brighter, indicating the sun was about to rise. Would he also be able to get a meal out of the sun? He wondered what the sun would taste like, if the moon was so delicious.

He eagerly waited his first taste of the sun.

Moments later, when the sun peeked over the horizon he eagerly took a bite.

PAIN.

Ouch! The sun is not for eating! Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!

He collapsed himself down into the cool ground once more, instinctively, shuddering in remembered pain. Hiding from the bastard sun.

It took him some time to calm back down, and start thinking again. When he'd finally calmed down, he started taking stock of himself once more.

He noticed he was able to move himself a bit, after having the moon flavored ice cream. He felt out his body, first feeling his roots. He noticed he was able to "taste" the surrounding soil, and that he was able to "eat" small bits every now and then. It was nothing like the feast he'd had from the moon, or the painful overfull burning of the sun. The small portions and lesser "taste" made him realize that while the nutrients he got from the soil might keep him from starving, the moon is his best source of energy.

So he settled down to wait for the moon to come up again.

After a while he realized that he wasn't able to fall asleep. He had to wait out the day. Back to songs, then.

Finally, he felt the sun fall below the horizon. No longer did he feel the beating down of the sun's rays.

He tentatively poked back out from the ground, "looking" around. He still wasn't sure how he was able to see as a plant, but he wasn't going to sniff a gift fish.[1]

The previous night he'd been so focused on the moon, he hadn't looked at his surroundings. Now, he was able to take a look around. He saw he was in the middle of a clearing in some forest. He didn't recognize the types of trees or any of the plants around, but that wasn't surprising, really, since he didn't study plants in his previous life.

So, he could be anywhere in the world, really. Although it didn't look tropical, so he guessed that narrowed it down a bit.

Just then, the moon rose, and he saw other plants that looked similar to him rise from the soil to feed on the moonlight. He was quickly distracted from looking around by the delicious taste of moon flavored ice cream. He noticed that the flavor and richness was not quite as great as it had been the previous night by just a bit.

He concluded that it must be because last night was the full moon, and now it's on the decline. The next several nights followed the trend of the moon tasting less rich each night, so he knew he'd guessed correctly.

He was pretty sad when it was the new moon and he didn't get any ice cream that night. He noticed the other plants like him didn't pop out that night. He guessed it was because they were saving energy.

Even though there was no moonlight, he was still able to see everything in the clearing just fine. The only problem was that there was just not much to watch. He would see little critters and birds moving around a bit, but it wasn't anything very interesting. However, the longer he went in this body with nothing to do, the more he found that any creature passing by was kind of interesting, if only to relieve the boredom.

It wasn't until four moons had passed before he started to notice the whispers at night when the moon was up. They came from the other plants like him.

"Grubs up boyos! Rise and shine!

"Yummy!"

"Oh, this is good. Gulp! Gulp! Yeah!"

"Come to daddy! Snarf! Snarf!"

And that's pretty much the contents of their discussions. He didn't know if he couldn't understand them before because he was too young a plant, or if it took a while for his human consciousness to adapt to his new plant body. Either way, the plants didn't really have much to say. He really couldn't blame a bunch of plants for not being decent conversationalists. What did they really have to talk about other than food?

One evening it started raining, and he realized how weird his new sight was. He wasn't able to see the clouds. He could still see the moon clearly, and taste the moon ice cream, but he saw and felt the rain, so he knew there were clouds up there. He just couldn't see the clouds at all. Shrugging off the oddity, he just went back to eating ice cream.

Each day continued in the same manner as the previous. He finally noticed his plant body didn't really feel the cold like he would have expected when it started to snow and he still felt warm. Maybe it was all the moon energy he'd been eating that kept him feeling warm?

Time continued to pass. Winter ended, and all the snow melted. His life was centered around the moon and eating. If he'd been forced into this life directly from being a human, he would have long gone crazy from the lack of stimulus *cough*internet*cough*. But he had spent an indeterminate amount of time floating as a spirit. So he just zenned out and enjoyed his new life.

* * *

It was another full moon night. He was excited. These were the most tasty nights. He popped up, and started gorging himself as soon as the moon came up. He long ago started making his own contribution to the "yummy!" choir to join his fellow plants. Hmm, food.

His enjoyment of the feast was interrupted by a scream of agony. He looked around, trying to see who had screamed. He saw a human crouching several feet away from him. It was the first human he'd seen in this new life. The human's back was to him, so he couldn't see what he was doing. This made him even more nervous.

The human stood up, and looked around.

He felt even more shocked when he got a good look at his face. "Alan Rickman?!" He yelped. "And you're naked! What the hell?!"

Not that the human could understand him.

Alan Rickman then cast his gaze over the other plants, including him. When Alan Rickman looked at him, he shivered in fear. The naked Alan Rickman had a silver knife in one hand, and a bag in the other. His gaze had more than a touch of greed in it.

"A good harvest this time." Alan Rickman muttered, then moved a few feet closer to him, crouching down at one of the larger plants around him. Alan Rickman quickly used his silver knife to sever the plant at ground level, causing the plant to scream in agony.

He shivered in fear, and tried to hide underground. He was unable to hide. He'd never had a need to hide on a full moon night before, but it seemed like he was stuck and unable to go underground. It had to have something to do with the full moon that caused him and the other plants to be unable to hide on this night.

And then Alan Rickman was in front of him, knife in one hand. It looks like this was his end. He only got one year as a plant, and he would be a goner. There was no way to hide or run. He braced himself for the pain as Alan Rickman reached out for him.

"Hmm, still too immature for the contraceptive potion. You would let all the stupid little slut witches get pregnant, and then where would we be, hmm? Maybe next year." And then Alan Rickman moved on to the next plant, cutting them down too.

The screams of pain were echoing in his ears so he could hardly focus, hardly believe he'd escaped. 'Potions? Witches?' He gasped. 'That wasn't Alan Rickman, that was Severus Snape! I'm a freaking potions ingredient in the Harry Potter world! Eff me! I'm screwed. This time next year I'm a goner.' He thought in despair as the gruesome harvest continued, the agonized screams echoing in his ears to highlight his future fate.

A couple hours later, he finally woke up from his despair filled daze, and madly giggled. 'Snape traipsing around the forbidden forest skyclad to gather herbs! So funny!' [2]

But his laughter didn't last long, as he crashed back into despair. There's no way he could enjoy the peaceful life he'd had up till now, just eating, when he had a death sentence hanging over his head a year in the future. But he was a plant, there wasn't much he could do.

Just as despair was threatening to overwhelm him he had a sudden revelation. He was in the Harry Potter world. There's magic! He is magic! Okay, yes, he's a magical potions ingredient, but he's magic in a fictional world. Different stories popped into his head, Chinese cultivation novels that mentioned that even plants and stones could gather energy and become sentient, then be able to move, and finally form human bodies. He's already sentient, so he's ahead of the curve.

His only hope of survival is to eat enough energy in the next year to kick start his evolution so he can escape the fate of being a potions ingredient.

This past year has shown him that the amount of energy in the moonlight won't be enough in the next year to escape his fate as a potions ingredient. He's got to take in more energy than the moonlight provides if wants evolve to be mobile.

Which means he's got to brave eating the sunlight. No matter how painful, he's got to endure it and eat and eat. Otherwise, he will be on the chopping block soon. And for what? His life forfeit so young witches and wizards can get it on without having a teen pregnancy? The indignity! He won't sell his life so cheap!

The sun finally rose, and he prepared himself.

Gulp.

"Arrrghh!"

Gulp.

'I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer' he chanted in his mind.

"The pain!" [3]

* * *

[1]: "Never Sniff a Gift Fish" is the title of a humor book by Patrick E. McManus, who wrote many outdoorsy humor books like "A Fine and Pleasant Misery" or "They Shoot Canoes, Don't They?". The phrase is an offshoot of "never look a gift horse in the mouth", meaning to find fault with something one receives as a gift or favor.

[2]: I think the reason I personally find the idea of a naked Snape skipping around the forest so amusing is because it's so out of character. He's this snarly, sullen bully who will snap at anyone that offends his dignity, and he's forced to traipse around the forbidden forest naked in order to gather his beloved potions ingredients.

[3]: A reference to the original Dune movie. If you want to see the clip, look up "Dune – Gom Jabbar". The Bene Gesserit have a Litany Against Fear that Paul Atreides used to endure the pain from the test when he stuck his hand in the box.

"I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain."


	7. Game On

I've read a few gamer fics, and while I like the concept, it is rarely done well in my opinion. The reason being lots of them get started, mash lots of stats on the screen, and then get lost wandering around the grinding levels/skills phase and just peter out and leave the fic hanging.

So I'm not even going to try my hand at a true gamer fic. (I don't really consider Red Running Fool a gamer fic, for reasons I won't spoil here) But if I were to try my hand, I figured I'd start it coming from an unusual direction. Because novelty is king, baby.

* * *

A young auburn haired housewife in her mid twenties woke up early on the morning of November 3rd, 1981. Her husband of a few years was still asleep next to her. Careful not to wake him up, she slipped out from the bed quietly.

She spent some time in the bathroom, taking care of business and freshening up for the day. She took a short time to look in the mirror. The best that could be said about her looks was that she was average looking. She was self aware enough to know she would never be counted as a beauty. But she was content in her life, and happy, which added a point to her attractiveness.

Humming to herself she made her way to her baby boy's room. Looking in, she saw him sprawled on his stomach, still asleep. He was big for his age, always ahead of the curve. Even when he was in her womb, he'd been big, which had made for a very difficult delivery. The complications due to his size almost killed her and her baby boy. It was a miracle they had both lived. He was her miracle.

The doctors warned her that if she got pregnant again, there would be a high likely hood of her not surviving. Her husband took it well. He said that one child was more than enough, and that they would make sure to pour all their love into him, to make the most of their complete family. They would work on quality over quantity, he'd jokingly stated. She loved him for that, for not taking it hard. For making her feel better.

She moved into the kitchen, starting to get breakfast ready. Her husband would be up soon, and he would need a hearty meal to keep him going at work. He worked hard to provide for his small, quality little family. That was another thing that she loved him for. He never made her feel bad about not having a job to supplement the income. He just got on with being the man of the house, and always appreciated what she did at home to keep their house looking lovely. He was always happy to return home to her and their rambunctious little miracle. Life was good.

With the preparation work for breakfast done, she made her way to the front door to gather up the newspaper so her husband could read it while sitting at the breakfast table. Just last week he'd shared a story with her at dinner about how, after reading an article in the paper that morning, he'd been able to have a very good conversation with a prospective client. He'd so impressed that client, that the client decided to go with Grunnings instead of their competition. And it was all because she had made it possible for him to be able to read the current events everyday at the table.

So imagine her surprise when she opened the front door, expecting to see only a paper on the front porch, and instead she sees a little one year old toddler. She was shocked! Where did this baby come from?

In another life this woman, one Petunia Dursley, might have been slightly less content, less happy, and less secure in her family life. She may have spent the next decade being overly worried about what the neighbors would think about her family. She would have been especially worried that they would see the sorts of magical accidents that she remembered her sister Lily having. In a different life she would have spent all her time worrying about what the neighbor would think and so she would have worried herself into being a pinch faced sour woman that only her husband and son could stand.

But in this life, at this time, all she could think about was that some daft moron had left a toddler out on a cold November morning in nothing but a blanket. She hurriedly gathered the boy and the paper, and brought them in from the cold. She brought him into the kitchen, and made sure to warm him up.

Her husband, her baby boy, and her sister's boy all woke up at the same time, and she busied herself with cooking breakfast after fetching her boy. She set her boy, Dudley, down in the living room play pen with her sister's boy, Harry, and kept an eye on them while she cooked.

Her husband, Vernon, soon joined her at the breakfast table, doing a double take at seeing two boys at the table. "They're multiplying now, love?" He joked when he got over the shock. In a different life, a life where Petunia was less content with what she had, she may have ranted out of jealousy from time to time about the freakiness of the world her sister lived in. It would have soured Vernon's outlook and made him wary of this little boy, Harry Potter, and the dangers he would bring to their family. But in this life, he had no such prejudice implanted by jealousy driven rants from his beloved wife.

After breakfast was served, Petunia finally had time to read the letter that was tucked in with young Harry. Vernon first noticed something was wrong when tears started spilling from Petunia's eyes.

"What's wrong, dear?" He asked as he got up from the table to hug Petunia as he began sobbing.

"My s-sister is dead, Vernon. This is her boy, Harry." She sobbed. "My sister is dead, and they deliver the news in a letter and cruelly leave her boy on the porch like unwanted goods. What is wrong with those people!" She cried even more as Vernon does his best to comfort her.

"There, there, Pet." Vernon muttered more nonsense, while hugging her and letting her get it all out of her system. When she finally settled down, he sat her down, and put a cup of tea in her hands. "Take a sip there, love. I'm sorry you had to find out that way. We'll of course take him in, he's your nephew. Our nephew."

"Oh, Vernon, it's not that simple. My sister was…different. I'm sure it'll be hard to believe, but magic is real. My sister had magic. And I remember all kinds of magical accidents she had as a kid. Turning people's hair different colors. Floating things she wanted to her. Opening doors that were locked. Her boy is sure to be like that too."

"Well, that doesn't sound too bad, love." Vernon stoicly stated. "If worse comes to worse, we can always go and find some of these magic people to help us cope. But he's your sister's only child, and I know if anything were to happen to us, I'd hope someone would take good care of Dudley, instead of chucking him in one of those orphanages. Ruddy nightmares, those are."

Petunia sadly nodded in agreement with Vernon. Maybe it wouldn't be as bad as she remembered it was as a girl. And she had Vernon to help her cope. She nodded again, more firmly as her decision solidified. "You're right Vernon. Thank you, for being here for me."

"Anytime, love. Anytime."

* * *

And the Dursley family settled down with their new addition. In another life, Vernon and Petunia would have been more resentful of the presence of Harry Potter, and would have let him know in small, subtle ways that he wasn't welcome. And as a result, a young and unhappy Harry would have had little cases of accidental magic. Nothing big, but enough to cause Petunia and Vernon to dislike him even more for not being normal. Which would have started a vicious cycle that would continue to snowball and make the situation worse, since they couldn't get away from each other until Harry turned 11.

But in this life, Petunia and Vernon made sure to welcome him to the family. Over the next three years he would become a slightly younger brother to Dudley, and a second son to Petunia and Vernon. And the only signs of accidental magic was summoning a toy that was out of reach to either Harry or Dudley.

One time shortly after taking in Harry, Petunia noticed that while playing together Dudley accidently threw one of his toys out of the play area, and was very upset that he couldn't reach it. Harry noticed, and suddenly, the toy was in Harry's hands. He then handed it to Dudley, thus ending his little tantrum.

That little bit of accidental magic and selfless sharing was the final piece that cemented Harry's place in her heart and in their family. Seeing her nephew use his magic to make Dudley happy made her realize, deep down, that magic could also be a decent thing.

That particular day, three years after taking in Harry, Vernon came home from work. He was in a good mood, having landed another lucrative sell just that day. So he was somewhat taken aback at seeing no dinner prepared. Something must be wrong. In the seven years of marriage, Petunia had never not had dinner prepared. It was something she prided herself on. So seeing his wife seated at the table staring at something in her hands blankly, made Vernon worried.

"Petunia, dear?" Vernon said as he laid his hand on her shoulder. She startled, as if only now noticing he was there.

"Vernon? What are you doing home so early?" She peered up at him in confusion.

"Love, I'm home at the time I usually am." He gently stated.

She blankly blinked a few times. Then she looked around the kitchen. "Oh, no! Dinner's not ready!" And she got up, as if to start cooking right there, slipping whatever it was in her hands into her pocket.

Vernon thought about stopping her to sit her down and ask what was wrong, but one look at her determined face made him rethink. She was so determined and resolute, he thought it was better to let this run its course. She prided herself on taking care of the household, and heaven help him if he got in her way. The discussion could wait until she'd calmed down.

Later that night after dinner, and the boys were sent to bed, Vernon decided it was time to find out what had happened that day. "Petunia, dear, the meal was delicious, as always." Her beaming smile let Vernon know he'd been right to complement her meal. It really was delicious, and he had the extra few pounds from the years of good cooking to attest to it. "So, dear, what had you so distracted earlier?"

Petunia's expression changed to worry. She hesitated a moment while putting her hand in her pocket and clutching whatever it was that had her in a daze earlier. Finally, Petunia decided it was best to go ahead and get it out in the open.

"Harry had another accidental magic incident earlier" Petunia whispered. "It was so very strange, though. He and Dudley were just running in from playing in the yard. I had just come in to warn them not to run, when Harry stumbled into one of my potted plants. He knocked it off the bench and it shattered on the floor."

Petunia paused for a moment, bringing her hand out from her pocket clutching the item in a fist. "When the pot shattered, I didn't notice anything strange at first. After warning the boys not to run in the house, I sent them to wash up, and moved to clean up the mess. But instead of finding a mess of a smashed pot, I found this." She opened her hand, and in her hand were two gold coins.

"Gold?" Vernon queried, flabbergasted.

"Yes. Specifically gold galleons. It is the wizarding currency. I saw it when I went to Diagon Alley with my sister to get her supplies. But that's not the weirdest thing. An hour later, the potted plant that fell, shattered, and then disappeared was back. As if it never broke in the first place."

"That is strange." Vernon stated while picking up the gold to weigh it in his hand. "Well, no one was hurt, that's good. Best just put this out of your mind, dear." He stated while putting the gold back in her hands. "Might as well set that aside for now. Maybe take it to the pawn shop later, or keep it for when Harry has to do his shopping. Up to you, dear."

"You're right. We'll be holding on to this. From what I remember of what my father said, the exchange rate from pounds to galleons was absolutely horrendous. My sister's wand ended up costing 2100 pounds, or seven galleons."

"300 pounds per galleon? Back in 1970? That is bad. Well, nothing we can do about it now. Let's go to bed dear."

"Yes, Vernon."

* * *

Five year old Harry Potter knew he wasn't like other kids. He knew he was different. The first clue he got that he was different was discovering that no one else could hear the music that was always playing. He was the only one that heard it.

There was always music playing, but it was a different song at different times. In the morning when it was time to get up it would be a lively tune to give him energy to start the day. When he did something wrong, it would turn ominous until he was caught. When it was time to go to sleep, the music would soften and turn into a lullaby.

The other thing he noticed that made him different was the blue boxes. No one he asked had ever mentioned seeing the blue boxes that would pop up in his vision from time to time. Only he ever saw them. But for the longest time he couldn't read them. So he would just wave them away.

But, now, finally, he'd spent enough time learning to read all so that he could read what the blue boxes were saying. It was finally time to clear up this mystery. While he was practicing his reading in his room, another blue box popped up in his vision.

**[Skill up! Through effort and persistence, reading skill increased by 1. To take the undone tutorial, think "tutorial"]**

"What's a tutorial?" The precocious five year-old asked aloud.

**[Tutorial loading…]**

The world dissolved around Harry, and then reformed into a giant room. The walls and ceiling looked to be made of wood, the ground was stone. Although there was no discernable source of light, Harry could clearly see the room. In front of him appeared another blue box.

**[Welcome to the tutorial of the Harry Potter Game]**

**[You have been gifted with the Gamer Aspect. You can interact with the real world like a game character. The first step is being aware of your character. To view your character information, say or think the word "Status"]**

Harry looked around the room, wondering about what this "tutorial" was. There were no doors on the walls, and the room was totally empty. Seeing as he had no other ideas for how to get back to his room, he said aloud "Status".

Another blue box with information showed up in his vision, covering about a fourth of what he could see.

* * *

**Name: Harry Potter**

**Age: 5**

**Level: 1**

**XP: 0/100**

**Race: Wizard**

**HP: 130**

**MP: 130 **

**SP: 100**

**[Attributes]**

**Strength: 3**

**Dexterity: 3**

**Agility: 4**

**Stamina: 3**

**Intellect: 5**

**Wisdom: 3**

**Charisma: 4**

**Perception: 3**

**Luck: 5**

**Attribute Points: 5**

* * *

After looking at the status screen for a moment, further text in blue boxes appeared.

**[Your status screen tracks your character progression. As you do quests or defeat enemies, you will gain experience points, or XP. When you gain enough XP you will level up. Each level you will gain 5 attribute points. These points can be assigned to whichever attribute you choose.]**

**[Strength determines how much weight you can carry and how much damage you do in physical attacks.]**

**[Dexterity determines your skills and abilities success in performing physical tasks.]**

**[Agility determines your reaction speed, your speed, and your ability to physically move, or dodge.]**

**[Stamina determines your physical ability to continually perform physical feats, as well as determining your Health Points, or HP.]**

**[Intellect determines your speed of learning as well as magic power, or how much effect your spells have.]**

**[Wisdom determines how well you understand and can utilize your knowledge, as well as the size of your mana pool.]**

**[Charisma determines your people skills and how engaging people find you.]**

**[Perception determines your insight, your ability to catch all the little things like a person's motive behind their actions, as well as being able to see fast movements, clues, and hidden areas.]**

**[Luck determines special encounters, drop rates, and all other things related to 'fortune'.]**

* * *

Little five year old Harry Potter didn't fully understand everything he'd read. There were a lot of words that he'd have to look up later. But he did understand that he was like those heroes from the cartoons he and Dudley sometimes watched. He could get stronger and he could go on adventures. He wondered if Dudley could join him in the adventure too?

Another box popped up when Harry was still in the midst of his daydream.

**[To view the list of your skills, say or think the word "Skills". Skills is the quantified measure of your skill level in an action. The higher your skill level, the higher bonus you have to the quality of the results of your actions. For example, if you have a high cleaning skill, it will take you less time and effort to clean your room.]**

Harry figured out the only way he'd get through this "tutorial" was to quickly finish doing what it told him to. "Skills" he said out loud.

**[Skills]**

**Cleaning: 5/100**

**Language [English]: 25/100**

**Language [Parseltongue]: 50/100**

**Reading: 9/100**

**Running: 16/100**

**Writing: 6/100**

**[If you select a skill, you will get a more detailed account of the skills and bonuses.]**

They were all pretty self explanatory except for the Parseltongue one, so Harry clicked on it. He then discovered that he had the magical ability to speak to serpents. He had a 25% bonus to the ability to convince a snake to do what he tells them to do. And if he maxes out his Parseltongue ability, it will unlock the ability to talk to other reptiles. That sounded cool, being able to talk to different animals!

**[To view your inventory and equipment screen, simply say or think the word "Inventory". Be sure to equip the beginner's knife you have been provided for the final part of the tutorial.]**

"Inventory" Harry said out loud while wondering why he would need a knife. His inventory opened, showing a little model of himself. There were different slots for equipment, armor, bags, accessories, etc. The tutorial told him how to put things in his inventory by touching them and willing it to happen, and the same for taking things out. Finally he had the beginner's knife in his hand that he found sitting in his inventory.

**[Final part of the tutorial, combat. Attack and defeat one enemy to finish the tutorial.]**

"What?" Harry mumbled to himself as a rat materialized in front of him. It was a huge rat, even more so due to Harry being only 5 years old. It easily reached the height of his knees, and it looked fierce, glaring at Harry with hate in its eyes.

**[Combat beginning in 5]**

Harry started backing away in fear. He wasn't ready for this.

**[4]**

Harry frantically looked around for anything to help him with.

**[3]**

**[2]**

There was nothing but his knife in hand. Harry clutched it tighter.

**[1]**

**[Combat begins]**

The rat screeched as it ran at him. Harry stumbled back and tripped on his own legs in his fear. The rat closed the distance and latched onto his leg, savaging his calf with its teeth and claws. Harry felt the pain of the rat's teeth sinking into his leg muscles. He yelled in pain, instinctively slashing out with the knife to end the thing causing him pain.

His blow connected with the rat's shoulder, throwing it off him. As it was thrown away from him its claws dragged along his leg, doing more damage and causing more pain.

Angry now at the pain, Harry got to his feet, crouching down, just as the rat got back up too. This time Harry wasn't frozen in panic and instead he propelled himself towards the rat, slashing and stabbing with the knife.

He sliced across the rats face, blinding it in one eye. This knocked the rat off balance, so the rat wasn't able to attack. While it was down again, Harry stabbed it in the neck, causing it to freeze up for a moment. The rats body gradually relaxed and fell down in death.

After stabbing it a few more times, Harry finally realized the rat was dead. Sobbing in pain, relief, fear, and hysterical at his near death and the pain, Harry dropped the knife, falling to his knees.

**[Congratulations at completing the tutorial]**

**[100 XP awarded]**

**[Level Up!]**

**[Learned Basic Knife skill]**

**[All wounds healed, all energy restored, all status ailments healed at level up]**

Harry felt a wave of comfortable energy flow through him. When it passed, he felt decent, physically. Looking at his legs, there were no more wounds. His pants were still ripped and stained with blood, but he was no longer injured. The rat carcass was gone. In its place were 10 silver coins. Harry picked up the knife and the silver coins, putting them in his inventory.

**[Defeated enemies will drop items and currency. Thank you for playing the tutorial.]**

The tutorial room dissolved around him. Harry found himself back in his room.

That was not the fun adventure he was hoping for. Harry shuddered at the remembered fear and pain. But if he understood the game right, then he would probably encounter enemies like the rat again.

Harry shuddered at the thought of rats. He absolutely hated the creatures now. If he ever sees a rat again, he's going to stab it first, before it can sink its disgusting teeth into him!

But if he's going to be forced to fighting enemies like that, or worse enemies, then he needs to get stronger and faster. He remembered seeing shows on the telly about doing exercises to get stronger and faster. He'll have to start doing that, and practicing with his knife.

Looking in his inventory at his knife, he once again saw the silver coins. He still wasn't sure why he got silver and not pounds to drop from the enemy.

Changing his pants so he wasn't wearing ripped and bloody clothes, he made his way downstairs to the kitchen. He knew his aunt would be there. When he arrived, he saw she was baking some cookies. Harry immediately opened his mouth to tell her about his new game like abilities, but found he couldn't say a word.

**[Gamer user, the game is to be kept a secret]**

If young Harry Potter knew any curse words beyond darn he would be cursing a blue streak in his mind right then. He tried all kinds of ways over the next couple of hours to tell his aunt about his abilities. Any time he tried to communicate about the game, through writing, drawing, speaking, or singing, he found his ability to communicate blocked, and the simple message to keep it a secret popping up in his eyes.

So Harry resigned himself to keeping the game to himself, while using it to work at getting stronger. Best to be prepared in case he found any more rats attacking him.


	8. The real Ron Weasley please stand up?

I've come across some different fanfics where they had Ron suffering from a magical parasite that explained his attrocious eating habits. But then I got to thinking, what if that isn't all of what a magical parasite does? What if...it can completely control the person. Even have some modicum of intelligence so no one knows they are being controlled? Everyone just thinks they are a rude, lazy, bigoted pillock. So this plot bunny was born. Now, would the real Ron Weasley please stand up?

* * *

_"Want one, Granger?" said Malfoy, holding out a badge to Hermione. "I've got loads. But don't touch my hand, now. I've just washed it, you see, don't want a Mudblood sliming it up."_

_Some of the anger Harry had been feeling for days and days seemed to burst through a dam in his chest. He had reached for his wand before he'd thought what he was doing. People all around them scrambled out of the way, backing down the corridor._

_"Harry!" Hermione said warningly._

_"Go on, then, Potter," Malfoy said quietly, drawing out his own wand. "Moody's not here to look after you now – do it, if you've got the guts –"_

_For a split second, they looked into each other's eyes, then, at exactly the same time, both acted._

_"Furnunculus!" Harry yelled._

_"Densaugeo!" screamed Malfoy._

_Jets of light shot from both wands, hit each other in mid-air, and ricocheted off at angles – Harry's hit Goyle in the face, and Malfoy's hit _[Ron]_. Goyle bellowed and put his hands to his nose, where great ugly boils were springing up – _[Ron]_, whimpering in panic, was clutching _[his]_ mouth._

_"_[Ron]_!" _[Hermione]_ had hurried forwards to see what was wrong with _[him]_._

_Harry turned and saw _[Hermione]_ dragging _[Ron's]_ hand away from _[his]_ face. It wasn't a pretty sight. _[Ron's]_ front teeth…were now growing at an alarming rate; _[he]_ was looking more and more like a beaver as _[his]_ teeth elongated, past _[his]_ bottom lip, towards _[his]_ chin – panic- stricken, _[he] _felt them, and let out a terrified cry._

But Ron's two front incisors didn't stop growing. In a moment they elongated down to his chest, and they were growing wider and wider. As they grew wider they forced his other teeth to crack and split, falling out of his mouth. Blood was pouring from his upper gums.

The bloody teeth were down to Ron's knees, while everyone looked on, horrified at the sight. It was like a train wreck, the bystanders couldn't quite believe what they were seeing.

Suddenly, the weight of the teeth grew too much, and they finally detached from Ron's mouth, falling to the ground. Ron staggered back, staring at his fallen teeth. The expression on his face, if anyone were to notice, wasn't horror or pain. It was glee. Sheer, unadulterated happiness.

"Free!" Ron crowed, startling everyone around them.

They finally looked away from the bloody teeth on the ground to see the unusual sight of a bloody mouthed Ron dancing and jumping around the hallway.

"I'm finally bloody free! It's been so effing long!" Ron continued to exult, to everyone's bewilderment. Ron ran up to Malfoy, who was too stunned to react, and gave him a huge bear hug while spinning him around. "Malfoy, you beautiful bastard! I could almost kiss you! I won't, but I could!"

Ron abruptly dropped Malfoy, who fell to his ass, so discombobulated by a hated Weasley _hugging_him, that he forgot to use his legs. Ron then turned his attention to Harry, who backed away nervously.

"Who's the best mate a guy could have?!" Ron questioned Harry. "You are of course! Thank you so much Harry!" And Ron grabbed him up in a bloody hug, smearing him with blood. He then reached over and grabbed Hermione, to make it into a three way hug. "I'm sorry, Harry, Hermione for being such a prat over the years. But you see, I've been in the grip of a terrible parasite since I was 8." Ron pointed at his giant bloody teeth lying on the ground.

At this point Snape made his presence known, looming over the students. He looked at Goyle and sent him to the hospital wing.

"And just what trouble are you causing now, Potter?" Snape sneered. Harry looked like he didn't even know where to start. Malfoy finally overcame his shock, and was about to open his mouth to lie about who started the trouble when Ron interrupted.

"It's the best thing ever, Professor!" Ron cheered out, jumping in front of Snape. Snape flinched back from his toothless bloody smile. "I've been rid of the parasite that infested my teeth years ago, professor!" Ron again pointed at his giant teeth lying on the ground.

Everyone turned to look at the bloody sight again, and this time they noticed that the teeth were shifting on their own. Many spider-like legs were sprouting out of it, as it attempted to get up and move, letting out a most disturbing chittering sound. Unfortunately their great weight prevented the two teeth parasites from doing more than rocking back and forth.

Ron shivered, pulled his wand, and silently cast the hottest fire he could on the two teeth parasite. He shivered in remembered terror at his ordeal of not being in control of his body since he was 8. Ron delighted in watching the bloody things die by fire.

"I…see." Snape sneered. He looked at Ron in a calculating manner. "So, you've been possessed by the Dente Parasitus. It might explain your poor abilities in class, Weasley." Snape sneered again. He could hardly help it, he made that expression when he was six and true to the words of his mother, his face got stuck like that. "Go to the hospital wing, Weasley."

Ron nodded. "Sure thing professor, on my way!" And Ron danced down the hallway, singing about freedom, to the bemusement of everyone present.

"Oh, and 50 points from Gryffindor for fighting in the halls, Potter." Snape sneered. Just because Snape's face was stuck in a permanent sneer didn't mean he wasn't petty when it came to Potter. Bit obsessed, that one.

"Yes, professor." Harry muttered, resigned to how Snape treated him after three years of it. Harry and Hermione looked each other in the eye and wordlessly agreed to skip potions so they could question Ron about just what had happened to him. From the looks of it, the presence of the parasite had seriously affected his behavior. They needed to get to the bottom of this.

* * *

And that moment, when Ron was hit by Malfoys spell instead of Hermione, was the turning point for our plucky trio, and their future was much brighter than before.

Ron, no longer locked inside his mind by the presence of the tooth parasite, was able to return to how he was years ago. A bright and curious boy who had a thirst to live up to the name Weasley. A boy who had a very interesting and talented family.

The father worked as a department head amidst all the politics, working alongside law enforcement. The mother was a retired duelist and accomplished housewife, who spent her time herding 7 energetic children. The oldest brother was a curse breaker. The second was an aspiring beastmaster who worked with dragons. The third was also interested in politics, and studied to advance himself. The twins were especially interested in all things potions. And the sister who was a quidditch nut.

All the time Ron was locked in his mind, unable to act, led him to develop certain abilities to entertain himself, and learn. The parasite that was in control of Ron was lazy, and so it only did the bare minimum to keep people from forcing it to learn. The parasite's main hobby was to eat and play.

So when the parasite was forced to "study", it only paged through the books. This made it so if Ron wanted to be able to read or learn anything, he had to learn to speed read, and remember everything. Ron listened to everything his very interesting family would talk about at home. And when the parasite was doing nothing, Ron would learn how to create a mind palace, so he could revisit everything he'd seen and learned, making sure he never forgot anything.

Over the next couple of weeks leading up to the first task, Harry and Hermione watched Ron, bemused at the vast changes in the boy. The first thing he did was drag them to find his "best friend ever", one Luna Lovegood.

Ron had been captured by the parasite at about the same time that Luna's mother had died, so Ron felt horrible for not being there for his friend. Once he found out that Luna was being bullied by the Ravenclaws, he was furious. He found out who had done the bullying, and demanded, badgered, and hectored the professors into finally taking action. Luna was ecstatic that the wrackspurts had finally cleared up from her friend.

When Harry found out that his little crush, Cho Chang, was one of sweet Luna's bullies, that crush died a most ignoble death. After living with Dudley, and having to put up with Malfoy, there was no way a little bit of hormonal attraction was going to survive the huge disgust he felt for any bullies. This led Harry to opening his eyes to finally notice that Hermione was an attractive girl. Later in the year, encouraged by Ron, Harry made the smart choice and invited Hermione to the ball. They had a lovely time.

The second thing Ron did was to badger Harry and McGonagall to let him and Harry drop divination cold. They would spend the rest of the year catching up in Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. Aside from Divination being useless, Harry was stuck competing in the tournament. There was no time to be faffing about with a fluff subject when they could be learning something useful.

The third thing Ron set about correcting was his two new friend's (Harry and Hermione made friends with the parasite while Ron was along for the ride, but he liked them so he wanted to hang out with them) ignorance about wizarding society. It had been almost physically painful to watch Hermione go on about freeing house elves. That would be as good as killing the little buggers. But no one had bothered to tell Hermione that. Which caused quite a bit of scowling on her part when she realized so many people were laughing at her ignorance behind her back. Even the professors didn't bother to set her straight. Thus died any lingering reverence for authority figures she might have had after being friends with Harry for the past three years. Which led to the discovery that Dobby had already bound himself to Harry. Hermione then let Winky bind herself to her, to save Winky from her misery.

(Hermione would find out in years to come that that single act of compassion based on what the elf needed, instead of assumptions and what her crusading spirit told her to do was nearly the best decision she ever made. Winky proved time and again a priceless aid in helping her mistress in her studies about the very nature of magic and integrating magic and technology. A story for another time.)

Ron also knew that Harry had no clue about the Ancient and Noble House of Potter's role in wizarding society. So it fell to Ron to help him learn about his inheritance, how he could go about forcing the government to have a trial for Sirius Black, and what he would have to watch out for to avoid people taking advantage of his naivety to steal from him. As a pureblood raised in the magical world with a Department Head as a father, Ron was able to overhear quite a lot about politics and dirty dealings. He would be a poor friend if he didn't help educate his friends about the pitfalls they were falling into.

Ron also made the move to rope Neville into their group of friends, as well as being much more welcoming to Ginny. Ron was able to convince Professor McGonagall to take him and Neville to get a properly matching wand, taken out of the discretionary scholarship funds. With a new wand that responded to Neville like never before, as well as having friends to back him up, Neville's confidence grew.

From then on, the group of Harry and Hermione, Ron and Luna, and Neville and Ginny could always be seen studying together.

When Harry discovered that dragons were the first task, the group kicked into Save-the-Potter-from-Fiery-Death-and-Digestion mode. The group copied and dissected any books about dragons while Ron and Ginny pumped their brother Charlie for tricks of the trade.

It was good they acted so soon to make copies of the books about dragons, because Ron noticed that after Harry tipped off the nature of the task to Diggory, somehow the books disappeared from the library until after the first task. They were all checked out by various Hufflepuff students.

It might be possible the huffle-jerks that were still calling Harry a cheater might not have deliberately tried to sabotage him, except for the fact that every meal time up until the first task there were several Hufflepuffs that would sit across from Harry conspicuously reading their books about dragons in an overly smug manner. When Ron pointed out this act of Hufflepuff loyalty to Harry, it cooled Harry's desire for a fair contest by quite a bit. After that, Harry was out to win the tournament so he could rub his win in their faces. Bunch of gits.

Thanks to a bit of insider knowledge gained from Charlie, when Harry faced his dragon, he was able to accomplish the task in three easy spells. The first spell lured the Horntail's attention to a different part of the arena. The next was to make his presence and scent almost invisible to the dragon. The last was to finite the spells.

Of course the judges from the other two schools gave Harry few points in a very biased manner. They were still unhappy at the inclusion of a fourth contestant.

Thanks to the inclusion of Luna in their group, within a day of getting the egg they knew the poem that was the clue for the second task. Ron wasn't sure if there were many magical animals that Luna hadn't at least some knowledge of.

The Yule ball ended up being a smashing success. Harry took Hermione, Ron took Luna, and Neville took Ginny.

When Diggory told Harry to take a bath with the egg out of the blue, Harry followed the etiquette that Ron and Neville taught him and politely thanked Diggory for his advice. But once they were behind closed doors, the mocking commenced. It didn't help their opinion of Diggory that he took the bullying bitch Chang to the ball.

"What a passive aggressive tool. I at least told him straight out what the obstacle was. Did he tell me to open the egg and listen to the poem underwater? No, he tells me to take a bath. Whatever. He didn't even bother to ask if I already knew. He was just trying to make himself feel better by no longer 'owing me one'." Harry ranted the next day.

The day of the task found the group, minus Hermione, down at the docks waiting for the start of the next task. Harry was looking very nervous and determined at the same time. Thanks to Neville and his knowledge of gillyweed, the whole group had explored the black lake and knew where the mer village was.

Harry had learned the bubblehead charm and he had extra gillyweed as backups in case something went wrong. They had practiced underwater silent casting, and Harry's spells packed a punch. He was ready for the contest, but nervous at Hermione being the one in danger.

The contest started! And Ron, Luna, Neville, and Ginny sat in the stands, bored and nervous for the next hour, with nothing to look at.

15 minutes before time ran out, Harry came out of the lake, pulling Hermione (who was awake and had a bubblehead charm on) and a small blonde girl that looked on the verge of death. When Harry got out of the water with Hermione's help, they saw he had a spear in his leg.

Fleur had been dragged out of the water by grindylows and dumped on the shore, half drowned, 15 minutes previously. She had only just recovered and was about to make a second attempt at recovering her sister, when Harry showed up with little Gabrielle in tow.

Ron, Ginny, Luna, and Neville later learned that Gabrielle was being tortured by the Merfolk when Harry showed up. He had woken Hermione with a bubblehead charm to help him swim the girl out while Harry defended them from the Merfolk, getting injured in the process. Gabrielle would likely have died without Harry and Hermione's help. That was the moment that House Delecour became staunch allies of House Potter, even several generations later, the ties between houses were strong.

As time moved forward towards the third task, Ron became more worried about the dreams Harry was having about Voldemort. So Ron contacted his brother Bill and arranged for him to come in the middle of March check Harry for any curses. It wouldn't surprise Ron to find out some death eater had cursed Harry when they had a chance.

The checkup found that Harry had a soul leach in his scar, which siphoned off magical power to the owner of the soul leach. Bill also discovered that Harry was laboring under magical bindings that locked up over 75% of his available magical reserves. Harry had various other bindings that locked his intelligence and various magical abilities. He had also been fed potions that inhibited his growth and sight, making him nearsighted.

Bill was aghast at the shackles that Harry was laboring under while still being an above average wizard. And if the magical bindings were still in place when they hit their 17th birthday, then they became permanent. Ron looked around at the group of friends, considering just who benefitted from Harry being shackled. What about those around Harry? Would they be targets too?

"Hey, Bill. While you're here, check us five also, would you?" Ron asked.

That simple question would lead to the future downfall of Dumbledore. (Dumbledore has been binding Hogwarts student's magic for _years_ so that he would always be the most powerful. Slughorn and later on Snape helped him with potions to control and lessen the student's abilities. It would be discovered later that Dumbledore should actually be average in power, except that he had been binding so many students magic that by 1995 he was nearly the strongest one around, anymore.)

They immediately all went to Gringotts and had the rituals to take out the soul leach and use it in a ritual later to destroy all of Voldemort's Horcruxes. All their bindings were removed, Harry was put on potions to overcome his early years of starvation.

Bill then started spreading their findings around to different families on the down low. That summer found practically all the wizarding and muggle families making their way to Gringotts for evaluation and binding removal rituals. It was great business that Bill brought to Gringotts, and he was rewarded for his hard work.

So when Harry got to the final task, with no bindings, he tore through the maze. Once Barty Crouch jr. saw how Potter was going so fast, he realized he didn't need to imperious Krum to help Potter get through, so Fleur was just fine and never crucio'd. And Harry never had the chance to offer a joint win with Diggory. Not that Harry would do that in this timeline, since he thought Diggory was an arrogant pillock.

So Harry arrived in the graveyard vastly more powerful, trained, (and without the cheating of J.K. to give him a headache that incapacitated him just enough so he couldn't resist being captured to be made a part of the ritual due to the fact that he didn't have a soul leach in his head), and easily took down Pettigrew. He then killed Voldebaby, and Nagini. Without any horcrux, Voldebaby be dead.

So then Harry returned via portkey with Pettigrew as final proof that Sirius was innocent (Sirius was exonerated shortly after Pettigrew's trial that summer). Crouch jr. was caught and Harry's friends made sure Amelia Bone was around to prevent accidental soul removal by kiss that Fudge oh so wanted to instigate.

(Incidently, Umbridge made such a nuisance berating Madam Bones for not licking Fudge's ass that they ended up in an honor duel later that week. Umbridge ended up not being able to talk her way out of a spell battle and died, leaving all the assets of house Umbridge to House Bones. When they went through Umbridge's records, the Bones women learned just who was responsible for the death of Amelia's fiance as well as Susan's parents. Vengeance was had shortly after.)

Dumbledore's misdeeds were soon found out, he lost everything and was cast through the veil. With no Dumbledore to protect him, Snape went out the same way.

Harry, Hermione, Ron, Luna, Neville, and Ginny never had their fifth year field trip to the ministry, but the ties of friendship they had from their momentous fourth year lasted a lifetime.

Harry and Hermione married and had a passel of kids while rewriting everything the world knew about magic and technology, making space travel possible.

Ron and Luna spent their honeymoon and many other vacations looking for more magical creatures. In the future after Harry and Hermione made it possible, Ron and Luna spent many years introducing their kids to the magical creatures on other planets. It was a never ending adventure.

Neville and Ginny married, and worked well together. Neville worked on his Herbology potions ingredient business that swelled the Longbottom coffers while Ginny had a nice career playing quidditch. She always had her husband and children to come home to.

And life was generally good, all because Malfoy hit Ron instead of Hermione with a teeth enlarging spell.

The end.


	9. A Lily by any other Name

The thing that makes me root for a character more than anything is watching the character struggle through adversity, never give up, and finally win in the end. Jim Butcher's Dresden Files is a good example of this. Harry Dresden is a punching bag while he struggles to figure out wtf is going on and just who is behind everything. Then, when he finally figures it out, and knows who to aim at, he blasts them into smithereens. And that final round of JUSTICE is so cathartic. It's what makes the story satisfying in the end. Because if there was no payback after reading about the character struggle for so long, I'd just end up frustrated.

So I started thinking (bad idea that): What would be the single most awkward place to put an SI character? Self Inserts are usually wish and power fulfillment stories. They fix the crappy plots. They gain lots of power and wealth. And they hook up with all the hotties (male or female) in the story.

So where could I put the SI so they suffer the most? What would make an SI so uncomfortable that they would decide to upend the table instead of playing the game of "Follow the Plot." So that's where I got this.

* * *

The pounding on the door is what woke him from his deep and dreamless sleep. He turned over, noticing the sunlight shining in the window, letting him know it was daylight.

"Mum said to wake you up, Lily! Get up!" A voice on the other side of the door yelled, accompanied by the pounding.

"I'm up!" He yelled back. Wait, that didn't sound like his voice. He had a much deeper voice. And who the heck was Lily?

"Mum said to get downstairs in 5 minutes if you want breakfast!" Yelled the teen girl's voice from the other side of the door.

"Got it!" He yelled back after sitting up. When he sat up, he noticed how small he was. He had long red hair that spilled over his shoulders and down his back. He looked at his hands. Little girl hands.

What. The. Fuck.

Tossing aside the blanket, he got up and looked around the room for a mirror. He spotted one on a desk to the side of the room. He moved over and picked up the round mirror, peering into it. The face of a pre-teen girl looked back at him.

What. The. Everliving. Fuck.

The face that stared back at him in the mirror was a little cutie. He knew it would grow up into a great beauty. The green eyes that stared back at him were gorgeous. They looked almost like a brilliant green light shone from within. If he had seen someone with brilliant green eyes like this before, he would be convinced they wore colored contacts to achieve the effect. They were too vivid, no one naturally has eyes like that. But he could tell he wasn't wearing any contacts. His new eyes were naturally like that.

In a daze he put the mirror on the desk, fumbling it a little so it lands with a small clunk. He slowly, reluctantly looks down at his body. Thin, short, preteen girl body. He reaches for the waist of his pajama bottoms. Taking a deep breath to brace himself, he pulls the waist band away. He looks down to check. Just as he feared, he's lost his John Thomas. He's a girl now.

Despair.

A sense of loss fills him. He fills lost, adrift, not knowing what to do or where to start.

He's been transmigrated into a preteen girl body. He didn't get the body's memories like he's supposed to according to all those stories. He doesn't know his identity. He doesn't know his new family. He doesn't know what kind of world he's in.

In a daze, he looks around the room for clues to his new identity. He spots a pile of school books and papers on a bookshelf. Moving gingerly, as if he expects something else to jump out of nowhere at him and screw him over even more, he picks up a school paper. The name he sees is Lily Evans.

Red hair. Brilliant green eyes. Lily Evans. 11-ish year old girl body.

The clues coalesce in his mind. He's in the Harry Potter universe. He's somehow been put in the body of Lily Evans, before she went to Hogwarts.

His mind is in chaos. He's elated that he gets to learn magic. He's freaked out that he's now a girl. He's terrified that Voldemort is out there, and he's a muggleborn. A target. But he's happy he's not an inbred cannon fodder for the half blood tyrant. But he's a girl now.

Everything swirls together in his mind. He can't help but think of all the possibilities. All the dangers. So many dangers. He's frozen in indecision, he has no information to base his actions on. What should he do?

He doesn't even know anything about this new world. Reading different fanfictions only gave him possibilities, not solid, hard facts about this new world. And they certainly don't help him learn magic. Or how to interact with his new family.

A little factoid popped up in his head. Oh, god. He's Harry Potter's future mum. If Harry is to be born he has to marry James Potter. Have sex with a man. Urkk. He threw up a little in his mouth. Just because he's in the body of a girl now doesn't mean he's automatically changed his orientation. He still likes girls, dammit!

No, can't think about that right now. Lock that up in the depths of his mind, never to be visited again.

He hears someone stomping up the stairs, a welcome distraction. Oh, right, breakfast.

He opens the door just as the stomping person gets to the door. He sees a 14 year old Petunia Dursley. No, she's Petunia Evans right now. And she has an adorkable pout on her face.

"What's taking you, Lily?" Petunia complains. "Mum won't let us eat until everyone is at the table, you know that. Now get moving!" Petunia suits actions to words and gets behind him, pushing him out the door and down the stairs.

"Sorry, got distracted." He muttered as he was tromping down the stairs with Petunia's assist. With Petunia's help at least he doesn't have to search for the dining room. When he arrived, he saw Lily's parents sitting at the table, smiling at the two girls. The table is set, food ready.

He goes to sit down in the closest chair, only to have Petunia push him to the other seat with a muttered "That's my seat."

Act like nothing's wrong, he muttered to himself as he sat in the other seat.

"What's wrong, dear?" Lily's mother asks him. "You slept in, and you look a little out of sorts this morning. Are you feeling under the weather?" She asks as she reaches over and feels Lily's forehead.

"I'm fine." He mutters. Nothing's wrong, nothing's wrong, he keeps muttering in his mind.

"Hmm, you don't feel like you have a fever. Just enjoying your first day of summer break with a lay in, then?" Lily's mother continues as if she didn't hear the new girl's response.

"Yeah, that's it." He mutters before the family has a quick prayer and everyone started eating. Apparently this is a family that doesn't talk much during meal times, allowing him to focus on eating, thinking, and planning.

The most important thing is to gather intel. Since he didn't get a memory download from Lily's body, he's going to have to figure everything out the hard way. He hoped that Lily kept a journal, and that it wasn't hidden too good.

When breakfast was over, Lily's father thanked her mother for the meal, said a few words of goodbye, and left for work for the day. Petunia made her escape back to her room.

Just as he was about to make his own escape back to Lily's room, his new mother stopped him. He found out that it was his chore to clean the dishes in the morning. Okay, no biggie. No leftover foods from breakfast means he doesn't need to figure out if it's okay to just toss it away or save it for later. He enters the kitchen and sees that they have a dishwasher. Easy peasy.

After loading the dishwasher (which actually took a few minutes to figure out, it's not like the dishwashers he's used to from 2020), he quickly wipes down the table and counters. While no one else is in the kitchen, he takes a few extra moments to open all the cupboards to learn where everything is. It would look odd if their daughter suddenly doesn't know where to get a cup from.

Finally free from the chore, he makes a break for his new room. Closing the door behind him, he flops onto the bed to relax for a few moments. He never would have thought simply having breakfast could be so stressful.

"Okay, if I were a diary, where would I hide?" He asks himself aloud. Great, now he's talking to himself. He must be going crazy.

He decides he'd search the desk drawer first. Art supplies. Miscellaneous souvenirs. No journal. He looks around the room. Bed. Desk and chair. Bookshelf, maybe there. Nope, just school books.

Night table. Okay, maybe there. Nope.

Closet. Clothes. Clothes. More clothes. No diary.

Under the bed? Nope.

Under the mattress? Nope.

Behind the desk? Nope.

Loose floorboards? Nope.

In the air vent? Nope.

Various shoe boxes in the closet. More souvenirs. No diary.

Sighing, he sits back down at the desk. He's about to throw in the towel. His eyes are scanning the room, trying to spot any other hidden spots. After the third time his eyes pass the bookshelf, he gets an idea. He starts picking up each book one at a time and actually looking inside. Second shelf from the bottom he finally finds the diaries. There were three of them. "Hidden in plain sight, this clever girl." He exasperatedly thinks.

The oldest one started when Lily had just started school. She'd already learned how to read and write, the little go getter.

He spent the rest of the day, only taking a break for lunch reading about the world of Lily Evans in her own words. Her achievements in school. Her personal art and study projects. Her friendships.

He learned that Severus Snape went to the same school she did. When the rest of the students made fun of him for his name and mocked him, calling him all kinds of names, she stood up for him and befriended him. She calls him Sev, and he calls her Lils.

When she was eight, she had a bout of accidental magic when she was furious at a teacher for badgering Sev about not having his homework done. It was so unfair because Sev's father had been on a drunken binge, and Sev had to hide away and couldn't finish his work. She could see Sev cowering from him. The teacher was reminding Sev of his drunken father. Furious, her magic reacted to protect her friend. The art supplies in the room had attacked the teacher, chasing him out of the room.

That was when Sev told her about magic. That she had magic. They would go to a magic school together, and learn magic, and life would be grand! She had to keep it a secret until the school contacted them, but she was so happy! Magic!

As he thought about what he learned he couldn't help picturing the way the future would have gone for her. Separated from her friend by houses, she still fought to keep him. Even when her friend fought with the bullies from her own house, she would strive to defend him. He was important to her.

But her friend kept drifting away from her. Always hanging out with his new friends that mocked and derided her. Her dream of learning magic with her friend was slowly eroding away.

Then the final betrayal. He yelled at her, called her names. He'd become just like those classmates a decade ago that made fun of his name when she defended him. Just like those imbecilic bullies from grade school. He'd changed so much that he was now just like those Pureblood snobs. He hadn't been there for her for a long time now. And now he was so far gone, lost from her, that he would dare act like those bullies she defended him against.

The friendship that she had struggled for so long to keep alive died that day.

The war in the wizarding world would have heated up. Students would have received news of the deaths of relatives. And there would be the pureblood snobs, mocking people for the deaths of their loved ones. And there was her ex-friend, Severus Snape, doing the exact same thing. Seeing her ex-friend participate with those evil bullies, mocking people for their loss, just solidified her decision to cut him from her life.

Thinking back on the actions of her ex-friend and James and his marauders, she came to a realization. James and his band hadn't been bullies at first. Robes or hair changing color. Singing sweets that make someone sing a song. The pranks were silly and lighthearted, not malicious. But she had always listened to Severus and taken his side when he was furious at being pranked.

But now her eyes were opened. She could see how Severus had always "got back" at them. Sometimes he was overly malicious in his retaliation. She'd gone along with it because of her loyalty to her ex-friend, but looking back on it she could see how it was Severus that escalated the hatred between the two groups because he couldn't stand his "dignity" being trampled. And of course the marauders weren't going to let the more malicious actions go without retaliation. So it kept escalating.

The last year of Lily's time at Hogwarts she would have been the Headgirl alongside James Potter as the Headboy. They would have spent more time talking and getting to know each other. James' parents, according to what he knew, would have died that summer, leaving James on his own and forced to grow up. His increased maturity would have made him that much more attractive to Lily, leading to them getting married and having Harry Potter.

But she and her husband would have died at the age of 21 at the hands of Voldemort. Lily's baby boy would be sent to be raised by her bitter sister and her sister's magic hating husband. He would enter the wizarding world timid, feeling more hopeful for an escape from his relatives than happy at just having and learning magic.

A tragedy if he ever heard one.

That night, he thought long and hard about his new circumstances and his future.

The first thing he had to do was accept his new life and identity as Lily Evans. She was stuck in this body now. He-no she- had to accept it and move on. Make the best of it.

After reading Lily's diary, she felt close to the smart and bighearted girl. She liked Lily, and felt bad about taking over her body. She didn't know what happened to the spirit of Lily Evans. But since she was now wearing Lily's body, she felt she owed it to Lily to live well for her. And if there was any way to use magic to find Lily Evans and get her a new body then she would make it happen.

The next issue was Lily's friend Sev. Right now Sev hadn't made all the poor choices that led to and created the bitter and hateful Professor Snape that Harry met years later. She decided that she would do all she could to convince Sev to get the sorting hat to put him anywhere but Slytherin.

That's the best she could do for Sev. If he still got sorted to Slytherin, then she decided she would cut ties with Sev. If the original Lily Evans couldn't save Severus Snape from falling in with Voldemort's lackeys when Severus was sorted to Slytherin, then she had no chance either. At least not without the Imperius. She did not just giggle. Nope. Definitely not.

She didn't have the time or energy to waste on such a time consuming, thankless, and ultimately doomed task as saving Severus Snape from himself. So if he got sorted in Slytherin, she wasn't going to waste her time.

Thinking of bitter people, she was reminded of Petunia. Petunia Evans was actually a cute teenager, not at all the bitter prune that Petunia Dursley turned into. She didn't know if she could change Petunia's path to becoming bitter, but she could always hope. She could encourage their parents to pay more attention to Petunia. She could work hard to listen to and encourage her new sister, instead of being so caught up in magic that everything was about her. And when she finally learned enough magic, she could cast a Vernon repelling ward on Petunia. Her new sister could do so much better than _Vernon Dursley_.

Which only left the final thing. The big elephant in the room. Voldemort. That half blood bastard with a penchant for murder and rape. He needed to go posthaste. Time to start working on the **[Kill The Dark Lord Before I Have To Have Sex With A Man To Give Birth To The Child Of Prophecy, Then Be Murdered By The Dark Lord To Give The Child Of Prophecy Blood Protection] **plan.

She needed a shorter name for that plan.

**[KATRAP] **would do. Short for **[Kill A Tom Riddle Action Plan]**.

And if Sev listened to her and got the Hat to put him anywhere other than Slytherin, he could join her in setting up KATRAP. She was damn sure going to include James Potter, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin in her organization. Strong and devious, they would make the perfect minions.

Pettigrew might end up coming along too, but she would definitely be putting some safeguards on Pettigrew to protect from betrayal if the silly Gryffindor boys just wouldn't leave him out. A rat animagus would make a great spy, she mused.

Maybe Hufflepuff for my house? A lot of automatically loyal minions available in that house. I just need to work on increasing their backbone so they don't take shit from anyone. Dark Lord? Pshaw! We have the HuffPuff McDuff Lady so be afraid!

Okay, now she's just getting silly. Time to sleep. Planning will go better tomorrow when she's well rested and not so punch drunk.


	10. Tales of Smiths and Slaves

'You know all those online stories where someone gets hit by truck-kun and dies quickly, then pops up in a different body in a magical or cultivation world where they can go on to become a god? Yeah, those stories. Well, they are at least a little bullshit. Sitting behind a computer screen reading about the silly truck-kun running people over always amused me too. But it doesn't prepare you for the reality of it happening. Or just how bored truck-kun must have been on the day he collected me.'

'Cause the thing is, dying by truck-kun wasn't quick. At least not for me. There I was, minding my own business, walking down the sidewalk. I noticed some people moving boxes out of the local butcher shop. It looked like they were closing down.'

'All of a sudden, this small box truck swerved out of traffic, headed for the movers. Not being idiots (unlike me) they dove out of the way. Somehow the box they were carrying flew in the air until it hit the grill of the box truck.'

'The box burst open, and several knives ended up lodging in the trucks grill, with the blades sticking out. That moment of hesitation as I stood there gaping at the surreal scene is what did me in. Losing the opportunity to dodge, the truck, knife points first, struck me, pushing me into the building behind me.'

'So there I was, in a scene straight out of Final Destination. Truck-kun had pinned me to the wall by knifepoint, I couldn't even feel my legs, but I sure could feel all those knives driven into my torso. It was at that point I noticed two things. There was no driver in the truck, and the sound of the truck engine was like a cat purring in pleasure.'

'Like I said, truck-kun must have been bored that day, or else he's just a sick, sadistic bastard. How can one tell the difference between a little lighthearted romp to relieve boredom or that he was getting his twisted rocks off? With minor god like truck-kun? It's not like I can ask him.'

'So that death led to my new life as a civilian of Glory City. I woke just after being born into this new life, so at least I was spared the trauma of knowing what being born is like. There's a reason newborns have such soft bones. It's so we can be squeezed out and not break our mother's hips in the process. I vaguely remember some earth cultures even practiced some weird binding of the head of babies so their heads grew into a specific shape that was considered attractive. I shudder to think of it.'

'Over the next twelve years I did everything I could to awaken my golden finger cheat that stories told me I should get for winning the reincarnation door prize. My parents must have thought me a strange kid, with all the shit I got up to. But alas, nothing worked, I was prize-less.'

'So why am I monologue-ing in my head? The fourth wall would ask. Because I'm about to start in this beginners fighter class. I just walked in, and noticed all the main players present. Ye Ziyun, Xiao Ninger, Shen something or other, and Nie Li and crew. Sexy fox teacher that's a bitch because she's from the Sacred Family who I can't remember her name at the moment. All present and accounted for.'

'And here I am, ready to hang on the coat tails of Nie Li as he drags me to the top.'

'I can already hear the bitching in the comments section if this is some kind of fanfic author tuning in to my story and writing it down for the pleasure and criticism of the masses. "Who is the main character here? Stop being Nie Li's sycophantic bitch and do something!" Yup, those guys want a power fantasy, no road blocks and screaming rocket of power straight to the top, all while stealing all of Nie Li's bitches to build a massive harem.'

'Well, too bad for both those guys, and me, I'm stuck here in a poor civilian identity, with no cheats, no super cultivation knowledge, no eidetic memory, no maps of where treasure is or strength to get it if I did. The only thing I can do is become friends with Nie Li so he'll share some badass cultivation technique with me.'

'I had 12 years to strain my brain remembering the plotline of Tales of Demons and Gods, while looking around the city and listening to the gossip network while growing up. It made me realize several things.'

'First, is that when Nie Li was complaining about the broken techniques available in Glory City, he wasn't just complaining to look cool to the reader. There's a reason Ye Ziyun, Xiao Ninger, and Shen Ten (or whatever his name is, I'll call him Ten because it rhymes with Shen) ended up in the basic fighter class with a reputation for not being really talented, cultivation wise.'

'With their family's resources to draw on for cultivating, they should have been able to at least get to mid bronze rank before class started, and go straight to the "genius" class. But because of the broken cultivation techniques, they weren't able to make the cut. Xiao Ninger even contracted that Artic Disease or whatever as a result of her shitty technique.'

'Don't pay attention to all the fellow classmates that kept saying stuff like "Shen Ten is a genius! Ye Ziyun is so talented!" Those were civilian and minor clan kids trying to butter up the nobles and get close for benefits to them and their families. The higher ups in the city and clans have a very different perspective from the lower classes.'

'But the moment those two beauties and Nie Li's friends got hold of well matched cultivation techniques, their progress took off.'

'Second thing I noticed, is there was a reason the civilians in Nie Li's class in the story were so touched by a few words from Nie Li. In order to maintain their power, the noble clans will reserve the best cultivation techniques for their own people. The only way for a civilian to get hold of a better technique is to go to the fighter class, get the shitty low rank technique they pass out to everyone, and work hard to get the attention of a sponsor. That way you end up in some noble's guard, instead of being a subsistence farmer or shop keeper. But that's about as high as the civilian born can go.'

'When Nie Li's friends threw in with him and offended the Sacred family, they took a huge risk of being blacklisted for life. If Nie Li had just been spouting nonsense, they would have ended up living very miserable lives.'

'So because I was born a civilian with no prospects or cheats, the only chance I have to improve is to hold the thigh of a sponsor. Power fantasies and realities collide, and power fantasies get knocked the fuck out (when reincarnators don't have a cheat). So, yes, I plan to be Nie Li's little bitch until I can stand on my own. And I'll remain his friend, because I'm not the kind of guy to bite the hand that feeds me.'

Class started and Murong Feng stopped his inner monologue to pay attention. He was quite excited, sitting on the edge of his seat, leg bouncing.

The teacher, Foxy Bitchy Shen started her bullshit "lecture" of rubbing in the fact that the nobles will always keep the civilians down and exploit them, and there's not a thing the civilians could do about it.

Feng kept glancing at Nie Li out of the corner of his eye, just waiting for him to bust out his frog in the well denunciation of Foxy Bitchy Shen.

And Feng waited.

And waited some more.

Halfway through the morning class, Feng had a horrifying realization. He wasn't in Nie Li's second play through. He was stuck here in the brat's first play through. And there wasn't a damn thing he could do to change Glory City's fate. It was doubtful if he could even survive the beast hordes with his orange soul realm and the shitty techniques available.

He was so screwed.

* * *

After barely paying attention to the morning's lectures, Feng thought hard about his situation during lunch break. There was no way around it. He and the whole city were screwed.

The reality of being a poor civilian limited his options. And the only thing he could do was to work as hard as he could while hoping to get a sponsor.

So he did the physical exercises like a madman. He practiced the basic cultivation technique every chance he got. And he spent the remaining time in the school library trying to learn as much as he could. With Nie Li not being a several hundred year old monster with candy-er, cultivation techniques that Feng wanted, he didn't have time to be to be wasting.

So while he made friends with Nie Li and his posse on the chance that an alternate timeline version of him was right now benefiting from being Nie Li's friend, in this life he had to be responsible for his own safety. So he worked hard.

Unfortunately the basic cultivation technique was an especially bad match up for him. After the first couple of months of class and Feng didn't show much talent, the academy let him go. But he did get that sponsorship, someone noticed his hard work. The Sacred family took him in and apprenticed him to a blacksmith. Joy. The traitors of Glory City sponsored him. /sigh

With no other choice in the matter, since no one would give a poor blacksmith apprentice with no cultivation talent a better technique, Feng focused on becoming the best blacksmith he could. All day he would work hard, ask questions, and learn all he could. On his rare evenings off, he would go hang out in a tavern with Nie Li, Du Ze, and Lu Piao. They were amusing friends to hang out with and alleviate the depression Feng had sunk into because of his hopeless situation.

Feng shortly showed he had great talent in the blacksmithing profession. His ability to focus and almost feel the needs of the metal being shaped was a great talent that the Sacred family made sure to exploit. At least they gave him drinking money. So that was something

Several years after being discharged from the academy, word started to get around about an enormous beast horde coming their way. The tone of the city was somber, but not hopeless. They had fought off such hordes before. Even though many defenders would die, that just firmed up the citizens spines. A sense of pride in having always survived, no matter how battered, was seen in the very bones of each citizen.

Feng wasn't very strong, stupid cultivation techniques, and was housed with the civilians during the fighting. Word got to them that the Sacred family opened the gates to the horde and ran. The traitorous scum.

What followed was a nightmare escape. People died all around Feng, being eaten alive, torn in two, and all other kinds of atrocities. Seeing the horrendous scenes of slaughter, Feng began to understand Nie Li's perspective when given a second chance to save the city. He wouldn't be forgetting this night for a long time.

Feng knew that Nie Li would be evacuated and would end up with the Temporal Book sometime in the future, so he tried to find his way to Nie Li. If he had the chance to take the book himself and help them both with cultivating, then Feng would take the chance.

Unfortunately, Feng ended up with a different group that ended up being captured by the Dark Guild and brought to the Nether Realm as slaves.

Feng sighed a lot, thinking how he should have had a cheat to make it impossible to be kept as a slave. But it is what it is. So Feng got on as best he could, doing menial labor as a lowly slave.

During the next few months Feng got close to one girl that was the daughter of a minor clan. She was having a hard time adjusting to the life of a laborer, especially in the environment of the Nether Realm. The sulfur and stink made food and drink taste especially bad. Feng tried his best to comfort her and make her life a little better. It gave Feng some comfort to help her, and she didn't look half bad too.

Unfortunately for Feng, the girl desired more in life, and she traded the knowledge that he was a talented blacksmith to become a concubine to one of the guild's leaders so she could have her creature comforts. Feng was pissed at the betrayal after all he'd done to help her, but was powerless to do anything. After that, Feng's life wasn't his own. He was fitted with a more stringent slave collar and spent all his time in the smithy, crafting weapons for the Dark Guild.

At first Feng's work was mediocre, due to his conflicted emotions. He loved blacksmithing, but he hated making weapons for the Dark Guild. It took several days of wrestling with the issue and quite a few punishments from his slave masters, but eventually Feng decided that he would forget everything else, and simply live for his blacksmithing. Fate had put him here, and he was bound by inscription magic so he couldn't escape. The only thing he could do was to accept his lot in life as a slave and focus on his art in order to forget everything else. Everything else would just depress him more, so he cast it from his mind.

* * *

The more Feng lost himself in the art of blacksmithing, the more he realized something amazing. He was able to cultivate through smithing. His spirit was being nurtured by the act of creation, and was able to store the energy, upgrading his physical and spiritual strength.

As Feng rose up the ranks from Bronze to Silver, to Gold, to Black Gold, his skill in forging likewise rose to the top. The Dark Guild was making a mint off of his skill as his weapons became sought after by all the higher ups in the Nether Realm.

Several decades later, Feng was closing in on becoming Legend Rank in both body and Spirit. That was the time Feng was looking forward to greatly. It would give him a chance to break the slave bindings and make his escape. Feng knew that even though he almost had the strength of a legend rank expert, his fighting skills were nearly nonexistent and so he wouldn't be a match for any of the legend or demigod ranks in the guild. The best he could hope for would be to escape slavery and stay free. He lacked the ability to defeat his captors.

The very night he broke through, he made his escape. He broke the slave collar, and rushed out of the Dark Guild's compound. He only brought his tools and the most recent sword he'd crafted with him as he escaped.

Feng had remembered some of the lessons from the cultivation novels in his past life, and meticulously acted weaker than he was, even when suffering humiliation. All for the opportunity to escape. And his long planned ruse worked. They only sent gold ranked fighters after him, thinking him only a level 1 gold ranked fighter.

Thanks to Feng's act, he was able to remain free as he made his way to the vaguely remembered exit from the Nether Realm.

Feng's memory of the plot line of TDG was vague, and he couldn't remember if it ever said how Nie Li got to the draconic ruins realm the first time through. And Feng didn't want to chance relying on anyone else in this shitty Nether Realm.

And he wasn't sure if he could trust the Nether Realm Lord. Some of the fics he'd read had painted the Nether Realm Lord as an enemy to the humans. They said that the Realm Lord knew about the Dark Guild and let them operate with impunity from his realm, otherwise Glory City wouldn't always be plagued by the Dark Guild.

There was a lot of assumptions, speculation, and no cold hard facts in all that. And since Feng didn't feel like trusting his newfound freedom in the hands of another, he figured he would wander the tiny world for a time instead. He was probably too old by now for the Realm Lord to recruit to the draconic ruins realm anyway. It was probably for the better that he enjoy what time he had left in this life.

* * *

Feng began to wander the world. With his Legend rank body strength, he was able to keep himself safe, or escape if the danger proved too great.

He would occasionally find small settlements of humans scattered around. Feng would then set up as a blacksmith for a time, teaching what he'd learned to the different human groups. Many children, especially orphans, had their fates changed due to the skills he taught them. It made Feng feel good that he was able to help his little apprentices make their lives better.

After about forty years of wandering, Feng came upon the ruins of Glory City. Because he had the memories of his past life, Feng wasn't quite as attached to Glory City as someone born and raised who only knew Glory City. But he was still attached to it. For nearly 17 years it was his home. His parents in this life had treated him good. There were a lot of good people here that died because one shitty brat (the demon lord) couldn't handle grief.

Was the city perfect? Hell no.

But did everyone in the city kill the shitty brats old man? Hell no.

Just the one clan did. And the demon lord already killed them by the time Feng was around. So everything else was just overkill. Psychopathic, murderous overkill.

Sighing again at the massacre that occurred because one shitty brat couldn't get over himself, Feng began gathering what he could from the remains of a once great city of refuge for humans.

Combing through the wreckage, Feng found lots of left overs. In the clan compounds he even found records of their cultivation techniques. Which didn't do him much good. Despite having absorbed lots of energy through his blacksmithing, he still didn't understand cultivation too much. Too bad he didn't have a time locked library to educate himself.

Feng gathered tons of metal and ores that would last him years and moved on. Wandering the land. He wasn't quite sure why he didn't just find a place to settle down. Probably all those stories he'd read in his past life still telling him to seek out his golden finger cheat.

Eventually he ended up at a village on the Heavenly Fate Plateau. Everyone was barely eking out a subsistence living. Food wasn't plentiful, no cultivation to speak of. Right, Feng decided he would stay here for a while. He had all those shitty cultivation techniques from Glory City, which is better than this village had. He would teach them what he could about cultivation, blacksmithing, and whatnot. At least it will improve their lives.

Several years later the village was doing much better. The hunters were stronger and able to bring more meat back. Feng had brought seeds from Glory City so there was now farmers that grew more food and herbs and whatnot.

The hunters had better weapons, and were better able to protect themselves. Feng was proud of these people and their better lives. It was something he'd done, something he'd built.

One day, from the back of the mountain behind the poisonous swamp explosions were heard. Feng and the rest of the defense force stood ready. Whatever it was back there making the racket could come out here and ruin everything he'd been building.

Out of the swamp raced a beautiful short lady. It looked like pieces of her were translucent. Strange. She was being followed by two peak legend ranking beasts. Shiiiit.

When the lady saw the village, she tried to lead the beasts away from the village. The beasts had different ideas. One of them continued to chase her, while the other stopped for a bit of fun, snacking on the humans.

Feng wasn't about to let that bastard eat his village. He'd just gotten them to the point their lives weren't completely shitty. With his blacksmith hammer in one hand and sword in another, he raced forward to stop the beast.

Feng wasn't at the peak of legend rank, so his blows lacked the power of the beast. And beasts usually had more body strength than humans of the same rank. But Feng's body was unusual, in how he attained Legend rank. He'd gained it through blacksmithing. Like metal being hammered and purified over years, Feng's body was stronger than someone who only employed cultivation techniques, or beasts who lazed around most of the time they weren't eating.

So while Feng lacked in cultivation power, his body made up for the difference and the battle was about even.

Feng continued to hammer and slash the bastard beast, dodging as best he could, but he was still taking hits. The villagers weren't able to get close to the battle between legend ranks. They tried to help by using projectiles, but they couldn't even pierce the beast's skin. Despite bleeding from all his wounds, Feng continued to fight. The beast was just as tattered as he was.

What felt like hours later, the beast finally fell, the light dyeing from its eyes. Once Feng saw that, he collapsed, the drive and energy keeping him moving left him. He fell unconscious.

Sometime later, Feng woke up in bed. His wounds were bandaged, but he was feeling it. His wounds were deep. He wasn't sure how he'd been able to keep moving in the fight. Many of the tendons in his legs and arms were broken. It was difficult to move. How he'd continued fighting in that condition mystified him and the villagers both. Sheer willpower? Subconsciously utilizing his cultivation energy to move his limbs?

Thank goodness the second beast hadn't come back. The beast Feng had killed made many a stew that helped the villagers gain in strength and cultivation. The threat of the second beasts return and the fear of what it could do with Feng all but crippled caused the villagers to step up their efforts to cultivate.

Feng was assigned a helper lass to clean his house, cook his food, and when he had a wheelchair made, she would push him around to the blacksmith to teach his apprentices. He could no longer forge weapons, but he could still teach. And at least he was able to feed himself, if someone else cooked. It's the small blessings in life that make a man happy.

Several months later, the five foot short lady who had been running from the beasts reappeared. She introduced herself as Yu Yan, the fire goddess. She had been able to slowly kill the other beast because the beast that Feng killed didn't rejoin the hunt. So she had come back to the village to see just what had happened.

Hearing the tale of how Feng killed the beast at great cost to himself, Yu Yan was moved. She decided to setup shop, so to speak, with the village and try to help humanity make a come back. She still wasn't 100% of what she was before, but she would get there. And she would protect their village.

After some weeks of getting to know Yu Yan, Feng confided in her his whole history in this world. Feng had never bothered to tell anyone about his reincarnation, that this was his second life because it was irrelevant. He'd been a normal dude with no super skills in his past life. Sure, he knew about electricity, t.v., and whatnot. But how to replicate it? He wasn't McGuyver, so he had no clue how to start. He couldn't even remember the formula for gunpowder without looking it up on the internet. So no industrial revolution for the Tiny World.

Unfortunately Feng was to remain crippled in arms and legs for the rest of his life. There was no super medicine or doctors around to repair his broken body. The brightest point in his life was his little helper lass, Xiao Biyu. She was an orphan, and became like a daughter to him.

When she married, he followed her to her husband's house. Having the hero of the village at his place was a great honor, that little brat that took a liking to his little girl said. No sense in trying to throw his weight and reputation around. His welcome would be shortly worn out if he did that.

So he just enjoyed his time, watching his adopted daughter raise her cute little rug rats. Occasionally teaching an apprentice the finer points of blacksmithing. And continuing to have conversations with Yu Yan about the goings on around the continent as she continued her own recovery of her powers.

And one day, after his adoptive grandchildren had grown up, Feng passed away. He'd led a full life. He'd had his share of love. He had enemies he hated that he would cheerfully slit their throat. He'd traveled. He'd built up several villages, passed on his knowledge to the next generations of brats. He'd had a full life. He was ready for what came next.

* * *

Which is why it was a complete shock that he woke up to the sound of Nie Li berating that Foxy Bitchy Shen teacher (he'd never bothered to remember her name).

Looking around with confused eyes, he saw the rounded eyes, gaping mouths, and shocked faces of everyone in class, staring at Nie Li's rant.

Feng pinched himself hard. Yup, it was real. He fell into a daze, thinking about what he had to do from now on.

Seeing Nie Li walking to the back of the class and several kids joining him, Feng quickly shook himself from his thoughts and joined them. No way was he sticking to mediocrity and a fate of being a slave smith!

As he listened to the banter between Nie Li, Lu Piao, and Du Ze, Feng centered his mind and thoughts. A moment ago he was an old, crippled man on his death bed. He'd led a full life. But now he was a 13 year old brat. Even though he was no longer crippled, he hadn't felt this weak in years. It was time to explode in the springtime of YOUUUTH! (Thank you Gai.)

[System booting up]

[User found]

[Binding to user]

[Welcome user to the Youthful System]

[The system with help the user fight his way to the top in an energetic manner]

…

…

…

'Bastard system only chooses _now _to finally show itself. I could have used you in my last play through.' Feng thought as he gritted his teeth in anger.

[User didn't meet the criteria. Only when a user has returned to the springtime of youth can user fully feel and understand the importance of the springtime of youth. Work hard in your youth, user.]

Bullshit systems.


	11. Blinded By The Light

Carl always seems to get the shortest end of the stick. Here he is, about to be dumped into a crappy situation again. What will he do when he wakes up dead?

* * *

When his consciousness swam up out of the darkness, Carl had no idea where he was. There was a huge blank in his mind as to how he got where-ever he was.

Searching his memories, the last thing he remembered was driving to work in the morning. He'd just gotten on the highway when he'd received a text from his girl. They'd had a fight that morning, so he was a bit distracted while looking to see what she had to say. There was the sound of screeching tires; then a loud crash. Then nothing until now.

Did he get in an accident from looking at a text? Jeez, he'd never hear the end of it from his mom over this. And his car was probably totaled. He didn't make it to work, he might even be replaced. Where was he now? In the hospital? He didn't have the cash for an extended hospital stay.

Carl opened his eyes. And immediately shut them again to minimize the pain from the light stabbing into his brain.

He cautiously squeezed open one eye. Slightly better. Carl opened his other eye, adjusting to the light.

But that is not a hospital ceiling he was looking at. What is he doing in a ratty wooden shack? And what is that delicious smell in the air?

Carl pushed himself up to a sitting position to scope out his surroundings.

"Ahh!" Carl screamed in fear, pushing himself away from the bloody corpse of a young girl he found himself next to. "What the hell?!" Carl found himself hyperventilating. This is not happening. This can't be happening.

A strange pressure built up in Carl's head. He gripped his head in pain from the pressure, collapsing against the wall he had put his back to.

Memories that weren't his own started playing in his mind, as if he was living them. He experienced being born in as a boy named Liam in 1727. As Liam grew older he made the wrong sorts of friends that he emulated. Liam became a drunk and a womanizer, living a hedonistic lifestyle due to the encouragement and egging on of his "friends".

After a particularly strong argument with his father one night, Liam left the house and became the dinner of a Vampire named Darla. Due to Darla's actions, Liam was raised as a vampire soon after. The vampire visited Liam's family home and received an invitation past the threshold that protected homes from vampires by Liam's young sister, Kathy, who thought her brother was returned to her as an angel.

The vampire demon inhabiting Liam's corpse then killed and fed on Liam's family. After that night, the vampire took on the name Angelus to mock the naivety and kindness of the family of the corpse he inhabited.

What followed was a long nightmare for Carl. Starting from that night in 1753 when Liam the man died and Angelus the vampire took over, Carl experienced the evil and devilry of the vampire's delight in destroying anything good he found. The vampire delighted in finding a young innocent and destroying her innocence, mind, and sanity. Angelus would psychologically torture the young girls, killing everyone around them, until they mentally broke. Only then would he kill them.

When his vampire lover Darla found a young psychic girl named Drusilla in 1860, Angelus took great delight in breaking her mind before turning her into a vampire. The vampire Drusilla kept the psychic abilities of the human body she inhabited. But the visions and mind of the corpse the blood demon inhabited were so broken that the vampire was not all there in the head. The visions she spoke about were so vague and difficult to interpret that they were not as much of a help to Darla and Angelus as the vampires had hoped.

Twenty years later, Drusilla found a young poet by the name of William Pratt that she grew enamored with, and turned him so he could accompany her. The four vampires soon became known as the Whirlwind. For the next 18 years they delighted in blood, murder, and torture. No one could predict where they would show up, or who they would attack. No one could stop them.

Then in 1898 Darla kidnapped the favorite daughter of the Kalderash Clan in Romania. Angelus brutalized the poor girl before draining her of blood and killing her. The Clan was furious, and in retaliation they performed a curse on Angelus. A curse that was meant to rip the human soul of Liam out of the afterlife and tie it to the vampire. The Kalderash Clan intended that the anguish and guilt of the human soul would torture the vampire and keep the vampire from running amok as it had been.

But somehow, instead of Liam's soul being ripped out of his final resting place, the Clan's spell had caught Carl's soul and stuffed him into the vampire's body. And now Carl had experienced everything Liam and Angelus had done and felt. Including killing and feeding on the young French maid whose corpse now lay near Carl.

Carl woke up from experiencing the memories of the vampire, and promptly curled over, dry heaving. There was nothing in his stomach to eject, but the sheer evil and disgust Carl felt over the memories made him continue to heave for several minutes.

Eventually Carl calmed himself and sat back up. Breathing deeply, even though he didn't need to, Carl took stock of his new situation.

Item 1: Carl died in the car accident. His old life is over.

Item 2: Carl now inhabits the vampire body of Angelus. His new life is that of a bloodsucker. Carl can't hear the blood demon in the back of his mind, so that's a bonus. He'll have to figure out if it's still there later.

Item 3: Angelus is a vampire from a fictional movie/t.v. show/comic. So he is probably not in the universe/dimension he came from.

Item 4: Everything from old fairy tales and stories are real in this universe, except Leprechauns. Supposedly. Maybe they are just really good at hiding. Anyway, magic is also real here.

Item 5: Carl is now a vampire, with-

Carl reaches over to the bed and with his two hands tears off one of the solid wood legs. Using his fingernails, Carl crudely shapes the piece of wood into a stake.

Item 5: Carl is definitely a vampire now, with a vampire's strengths. And most likely their weaknesses.

Item 6: Fucking Angelus had been running all over Europe for the past 145 years killing as he pleased. In other words, since Carl now occupied Angelus' body, Carl now inherited all the enemies of Angelus. Wanker.

Carl stood up, and tucked the crude stake he'd made into the small of his back, covered by his shirt. He moved over to where a pitcher of water and a basin was sitting on a nearby table. Carl looked at the crude mirror hanging on the wall. There was no reflection.

Deciding not to brood on it, Carl used the water in the basin to clean his face and hands from when Angelus had fed on the poor girl lying dead behind him.

After drying off, Carl started exploring his senses. Everything was turned up to 11. The light that hurt his unprepared eyes earlier came from a couple lamps in the shabby wooden room. Carl could clearly hear conversations in the other rooms of the cheap inn he was currently in.

The blood he'd smelled earlier from the girl still smelled so good. When Carl was able to focus on smells other than the blood, he could almost taste the different smells. He could tell how many men had been in her room in the past few days. What soap she used to bath with. He could tell what she'd had for dinner before running into Angelus.

Sighing at the situation he found himself in, Carl finished getting dressed in the good looking clothes that tagged him to anyone of the late 1800s as one of the rich. Despite being a murderous creature of the blackest pits, Angelus had quite the pride in his appearance. He used it quite well as bait to lure victims in. Where women used their beauty as a honey trap, Angelus used his rich and handsome appearance as the same thing.

One of the new vampire senses that he just gained was telling him that he had about an hour before the sun rose and that it was time to find shelter. It made Carl wonder about the various fanfictions he'd read where the newborn leaches were too stupid to even find shelter during the day. The blood demons would have to be incredibly retarded or too distracted by their newly inhabited corpse if they didn't feel the incredibly loud warning Carl was feeling about the danger of getting a tan.

Before leaving the room, Carl stood a moment over the corpse of the young girl that Angelus had killed before Carl took over. Sighing again, Carl closed her eyes and arranged her a bit more modestly. "Sorry this happened to you darling. You didn't deserve this. But I hope you're circumstances are better now, wherever you are."

Carl gently closed the door on his way out. After leaving the small, run down inn, Carl followed the memories he'd gotten from Angelus to the house where Angelus and Darla were staying. Before he'd even opened the door, he could sense Darla inside.

As Carl slipped inside, he heard Darla call out to him. "Angelus, darling. Where have you been." She paused to sniff the air. "Ah, a midnight snack. Shame on you, lover. Not bringing your paramour any is selfish of you!"

"How unthoughtful of me!" Carl exclaimed, leaning on the memories of Angelus. "And how should I make it up to you." He continued as he stalked towards Darla, eyeing up her sexy curves. He reached out, grabbing her hair in a fist, and pulled her into an almost savage kiss.

Pausing and pulling back for a moment, Darla smiled excitedly. "Mommy, likes!" When she paused. A look of horror came over her face as she felt the stake that Carl had made pierce her back and into her heart.

Carl kept eye contact with Darla for the long moment as she stared at Carl with a sense of betrayal, before she turned to dust.

After having experienced the blood demon Angelus' memories and feelings, Carl would be lying if he said he wasn't affected. Carl had basically experienced 145 years of living with Darla, 48 years of living with Drusilla, and 18 years of living with Spike.

Thinking on his memories of the Buffy the Vampire Slayer show, Carl could somewhat understand how muddled Liam would have been after being ripped out of his eternal rest and being thrust into sharing headspace with the blood leech. Being forced to experience 145 years of life as a vampire, versus only 26 years of life as a human.

And as a human Liam hadn't been known for his great willpower. So Carl could appreciate how difficult it would have been for Liam. But Carl refused to play the part of poor confused Liam in this BtVS universe. He wasn't going to be moping and brooding for the next 100 years. He wasn't going to confuse the leech's memories and relationships for his own.

No, he certainly wasn't Angelus. He wasn't going to play the part of poor broody Liam. And if those retards that called themselves the Powers-That-Be thought he was going to dance to their finely scripted plan that called for him to mope around for one hundred years, then fall in love with a young Buffy Summers, lose his soul by having sex with her, get sent to hell, come back from hell only to end up in L.A. where he will run a detective agency until he has a little half vampire baby with Cordelia Chase, and then take over the demonic Lawfirm of Wolfram & Hart so he'll somehow be forced to keep the balance and allow one of those Powers That Be to gain a human body, then they could go screw themselves. He's not going to dance that jig.

* * *

The next night Carl packed up everything Angelus and Darla had and moved out of the house. Angelus and Darla had killed the owners and planned to move on after a few days of playing in the town. Spike and Drusilla had gone off on their own a few days earlier, and Carl had no idea where they were. Drusilla would be hard to track down, due to her seer abilities. So Carl would work on other important things first.

After several nights of travel, Carl arrived at a remote hunting lodge in the forests of Germany that Angelus had been to. Carl quickly surveyed the old abandoned lodge. No one had been there for years, it looked like.

Carl quickly worked to make the lodge sunlight proof so he could rest there during the day. During his travel there, Carl had often hid in farmer's barns, burrowing into the straw mounds that looked least likely to be disturbed, or digging a shallow grave for his daylight rest. Since he didn't need to breathe, Carl found he could relax all day under a few feet of sod. And Vampire strength seemed uniquely suited to digging graves as shelter.

Now that Carl was away from human settlements, he began to test his new vampire abilities and limitations. Angelus never went more than a few days without feeding, so Carl had no idea how often he'd have to "eat" before the thirst made him feral. Thinking about Angelus' feeding habits made him realize just how many people Angelus had killed.

Angelus killed every couple of days, with special murder-orgy-parties thrown in, so Carl roughly figured there were about 300 victims of Angelus each year, for 145 years. That was about 43,500 murders. That was a lot of memories of murder. Carl was definitely not right in the head anymore with all those memories bouncing around, but he wasn't going to mope about it. No, for making him experience that darkness, Carl was going to take his anger (probably a remnant of Angelus) out on the leech population.

Carl was going to stay away from the Kalderash Clan for now. As angry as he was at those assholes for putting him in this situation, he knew not all of them were guilty. And he didn't know if he would be able to hold his anger in and just punish them and not go on a murder spree. And Angelus already royally screwed the both of them over once by messing with them. Best to let sleeping dogs lie.

So for the next year and a half Carl stress tested his new vampire body. He found he could refrain from drinking blood for three days before he started to really feel the need to feed. He could go a week just fine, but if he went more than nine days, he would suddenly lose control and go eat the next thing he could find. Which was a deer that Carl had tied up in the yard for just such an occasion.

Carl found that he could eat like a human just fine, and food tasted just like it did when he was a human. But just eating human food did nothing for the deep gnawing hunger/thirst for blood that vampires crave. Animal blood worked just fine for Carl as a substitute for human blood. He could eat bloody raw meat to stretch out the time he would need to drink blood. But once the meat was cooked it lost that needed ingredient that vampires needed from blood.

And Carl found that he didn't need to drain the blood donor dry to keep his thirst in check, he could take a liter here or there every night from the animals in the forest and be fine.

After a couple of months in the forest, Carl developed a theory on the effect different blood had on a vampire. From Angelus' memories, Carl knew just how dumb he'd been as a newly made leech. Over time of drinking human blood the lights slowly came up and began to brighten, so to speak. Carl concluded that newborn leeches really were that stupid and the more human blood they drank, the smarter they got.

Carl noticed that ever since he started drinking mostly deer blood the past several months, he'd been getting quicker and more alert. He then switched to bear blood, which was interesting to get without killing the bears. A couple months later he noticed how much stronger his body was and how much more weight in trees he was able to lift. Several months later and he discovered that wolves blood gave him agility.

Different types of blood gave a vampire different strengths, depending on the attribute of the blood donor. And as far as Carl could tell, it was a permanent increase. He didn't lose the extra speed or senses he'd gotten from deer after switching to a different animal.

This was information he wasn't going to share with anyone. This would give him an edge over all the other blood suckers. While all the other blood suckers stuck to human blood that mostly only increased their intelligence to a certain degree, Carl was going to be drinking to improve his base stats. He would make himself faster and stronger than any other vampire.

If he could get a modest speed boost off of deer blood, what would he get off of cheetahs? If he gained strength from bear blood, what would he get off of Elephants? If he got a bit of body sturdiness off of milk cows, what would he get off of rhinos? If he got agility from wolves, what about panthers, leopards, jaguars, and tigers, oh my?

After a year and a half, Carl felt his testing and training had gotten him as far as he could for now. He had determined the bare minimum he needed to feed to survive, as well as a path to getting stronger. He'd gained some measure of control over the 170 years of memories so he didn't react based off of what Angelus would do. He'd learned how to move and fight with his vampiric speed and strength to keep himself alive despite having many enemies in this world.

Packing up his meager belongings, Carl moved on. There were things he needed to do before a World War broke out in this continent.

* * *

As Carl stared at the locked bank vault in front of him at 2 in the morning, he couldn't help but curse Angelus yet again. He knew that vampires were impulse creatures, caring nothing for anything beyond the now, but would it have been too hard for the murderous demon to steal some money from his victims and stockpile it up for Carl to benefit from so he didn't have to turn to bank robbery?

Vampires didn't care about money except as a temporary means of gaining camouflage to hunt better, but he's a human soul dammit. And there was no way he was going to live the rest of his undeath in graveyards and squatting houses where he killed the owner. And to start gathering safe houses, day guards, a constant safe blood supply, and other things, he needed to gather the starting capital.

Which is exactly why he's robbing a bank. Good thing vampiric hearing makes listening to tumblers easy. After filling his bags up with German Goldmarks, Carl got out of there with no one the wiser.

Several days, and several meetings with certain sketchy individuals, and a deposit in good faith with a promise of larger payment later, and Carl's plan was set in motion in Germany.

Before the advent of the World War, Carl planned to scour Europe for any old tomes about the occult. Who knows how many of those books were lost in the destruction, or torn up to start fires, or simply lost. If he could get a hold of those books now, then he could build a library a Watcher would be envious of.

His business finished at the moment in Germany, Carl moved on to Belgium and established the same deal with the local entrepreneurs. It was a win-win situation for everyone. Carl didn't have to waste his time in fruitless searches and questioning people who would only talk to locals, and his new business associates make bank from finding him some reading materials.

While Carl was in Belgium, he picked up a nice pair of Browning Model 1900s that just went on sale that year. If he was able to handle a situation with humans by using the guns instead of his vampiric speed or strength, it would only help him keep a low profile.

After finishing up business in Belgium, Carl made his way through France, Spain, and Portugal, making the same deals for books, before he set sail for America. Time to return to his homeland, and set up shop. By the time the events of the show Buffy the Vampire Slayer roll around, Carl planned to have a sturdy foundation in America and around the world. With a bit of judicious timing, he could make himself rich and build a network of people to accomplish whatever he needed.

While in America, Carl set up a banking account with JP Morgan & Co to handle his money and investments, and purchased a plot of land outside Cleveland, where the secondary Hellmouth he knew about is located. He set them to start building a home/mansion that would be one of his primary residences, and a location that he could ship all of his books to, once he returned to Europe.

Over the next several years, Carl was constantly on the move around Europe and the Mediterranean and bringing his gains back to America. His hired people in America did a fine job of building his mansion and guarding his property while he was away.

In June of 1908 Carl made his way to the Yeniseysk Governorate, Russia to see if he could watch one of the mysteries. The Tunguska Event was the largest impact event in recorded history (not including the dinosaurs, we didn't record that, apparently). It was a large explosion that occurred 3 to 6 miles above the Earth's surface, and it flattened 770 square miles of forest. The wiki page of Carl's time attributes the explosion to the air burst of a meteoroid. There was, however, no impact crater. As a result, lots of fiction writers have used the mysteriousness of it to have a spooky occult cause, instead of a mundane meteoroid.

Carl parked himself outside where the area is supposed to be flattened, and waited for something to happen. At about three in the morning, Carl saw something he didn't think he'd ever see. A UFO was rising up out of the forest, running lights lit. Suddenly out of the sky five more UFOs came down and surrounded the one taking off.

Carl decided at this point in time it was better to make a getaway. If they scanned around and found him nearby, who knows what they would do? Carl started running away, looking over his shoulder occasionally.

He happened to glance back, as the UFO from the forest was fired upon, and exploded, causing widespread devastation in the forest. So that was the cause of the Tunguska event. Aliens. Carl saw the other ships start to do a cleanup on the debris from the destroyed ship. Carl made a tactical decision, and buried himself in the ground, hoping that they would mistake him for a buried corpse, instead of a supernatural abnormality. Or just as bad, a witness.

The morning passed slowly as Carl occasionally heard the ships pass overhead. Thankfully, nothing happened, and by noon the ships had stopped flying overhead. When the sun went down, Carl quickly vacated the area, not wanting to chance any remnant observation posts from the E.T.s.

* * *

When the First World War started, Carl finally got a break from his constant travels and hunting for more books. He had been especially careful in his actions in Britain, because he knew the Watchers Council was based there. Or at least, it had been in 1998 in the show. He was pretty sure the Watchers wouldn't give up their precious books to a vampire, so he would plan to wait until the confusion of the London Blitz to chance getting in and looking at their books. Until then, he had plenty to do.

Now that he wasn't traveling, he started to catalogue his new library. Over the previous 14 years of travel, he had had lots of time to learn many of the languages he hadn't already known.

However, just because he was a supernatural creature, didn't mean he automatically knew which books were full of it, and which were genuine. Thankfully he'd found a witch, Joanna Crestly, with an open mind who was willing to teach him all she knew, for the chance to expand her own library.

Their first few meetings had naturally been tense. She kept expecting him to tear her throat out, and he kept worrying that she'd try to burn him to ashes. Eventually it stopped being tense between the two of them, and they soon grew to enjoy each other's banter.

After a dozen meetings, they came to terms and started working together. One of her unbreakable conditions was that at no point would he ever have "relations" with her or any of her descendants. Seems the human-vampire ickyness was a big no no for Joanna. Which was perfectly fine and reasonable to Carl.

He too thought doing the nasty with a corpse was disgusting. And even if the girl was willing to do things for him, he felt he would lose all respect for said girl for being willing to fuck a corpse. So any relationships while Carl was still a corpse was doomed to failure; as a result he never bothered to try. Plus he didn't know if when he did the happy with a girl, would the Gypsy curse decide it was over and release his soul? He didn't care to find out for a few minutes of sex. The risk-reward just didn't make it worthwhile.

Halfway through cataloguing Carl's library, Joanna and Carl found a treasure. The book recorded a set of Enochian Runes that it claimed would protect whoever was tattooed with them from seers, scrying, and being watched by the powers above and below. *cough* Powers That Be *cough*.

Perfect. This would let Carl get off the PTBs radar, as well as sneak up on Drusilla to put her and Spike down. If Spike and Drusilla were allowed to go their merry way, killing and feasting, that's another 50,000 or so people murdered in the next 90 years before Spike supposedly has a chance to redeem himself. And that's not even counting that Carl had royally boned the timeline. So while Carl himself didn't create Drusilla and Spike, and the guilt really wasn't on his head, Carl felt that those two are a murderous headache that is better ended sooner rather than later.

Carl got word from his network of informants that Spike and Drusilla were spotted in New York in 1920. Luckily, he was close by and made it to the city in time to catch them. Drusilla, the broken vampire, came right up to him when he showed his face. It was easy to lay her to rest with a stake to the heart. Hopefully the broken spirit of the girl would rest easier now that her body wasn't being used to murder the innocent.

Spike made to run, but a few shots from his Colt M1911 in the knees stopped him right quick. A quick beheading later, and Carl was happy that Angelus' additions to the Aurelius line was ended.

Now that his library was sorted, his information network was growing, and his fortune growing, Carl turned to the next project. His next mansion outside of Sunnydale was to be built, and having his library copied to prevent a total destruction in the case of disaster.

While he was having his people take care of those projects, he was working with Joanna to find out if he could learn to use magic. His demonic nature as a vampire ensured that certain aspects of magic would always be barred from his use. However the fact that he had a supernatural battery from the blood he drank gave him some power to use.

He would never be able to channel the power of Gaia, or call on the gods in rituals, but he could do many of the simple spells. Cast fireballs, lightning, conjure water, telekinesis, cloak of shadows, etc…

Time continued to pass. Carl made a huge profit investing in the stock market until 1929. He made sure to gradually ease his money out of it from July of that year, until by September he was out, and his money was in a secure place where a failing bank wouldn't hurt him.

After the crash, Carl was able to pick up properties and stock that he knew would recover and last for cheap. Once again setting him up to be one of the richest men (vampires) ever.

Carl used a large chunk of land he got for cheap in California to build a massive Zoo/Safari Park. He'd hired people to bring in many animals from around the world to populate his park. All the animals around the world that he wanted to drink their blood to get stronger, all together in one place.

He brought enough animals in to sustain a breeding population. Carl came from a time in the future when there were issues with certain animals no longer having a large enough population to sustain itself. In the future some of the animals in his park or in the wild would be switched out to provide new blood to keep the population growing. This was his philanthropic gesture to the future. And if he kept the animals strong, they would keep him strong.

Shortly before World War 2 began, Carl finally found the Gem of Amara in a tomb in Sunnydale that would let him walk in the daylight and protect him from damage. All the treasure that was in the tomb was a nice bonus. Carl did the smart thing and wore it on one of his toes so that no one would notice a new ring gracing his fingers when he could mysteriously suddenly walk in the sunlight.

When the London Blitz began, Carl was situated with a group of his well trained spies to infiltrate the Watchers Council. In all the confusion, they were able to get in, and make copies of all the books over the course of the months. A nerve wracking job to do under the radar, but worth it to add the treasure trove of knowledge to his library.

Carl, Joanna, and Joanna's daughter Melly, spent the next several years copying out the books and learning from them. The bald truth that was spelled out in those journals disgusted even Carl, and he had years of vampire memories in his head.

The Watchers Council had started out with the right idea, to support the Slayer in her calling to protect humanity from inimical demons. But over time, certain leaders got it into their heads that they should guide, control, or command the slayer for their benefits.

They would occasionally have a Slayer assassinate someone who wasn't toeing the company line, or in order to make a profit. Then, when the Slayer learned they had killed a human and were devastated and looking for help and guidance, the council would use the killing of a human as an excuse to have the Slayer put down, and another called in their place.

They would use the cruciamentum as a means to get rid of Slayers that were getting too independent. Some of the council leadership would even use the Slayer as a whore, getting off on the feeling of power to be able to command such a powerful woman to service them.

After reading the journals and seeing the corruption of an organization that should protect the Slayer and humanity, Carl decided that he wasn't going to wait 60 years until the show had the council die.

Carl gave the order and his spies began to infiltrate the organization. The spy's moved their families next door to the watcher's families, and became friends. After befriending them, a bit at a time they staged the opportunities for the watcher's friends and neighbors to "become aware" of the supernatural.

They began to worm their way into key positions of the organization, gathering information about financials, personnel, etc.

And finally, in 1956, they had enough players in key positions to effect a take over. It was swift and bloody, but the corrupt, arrogant leaders who desired power and control, were eliminated.

* * *

Hemery High School gym, after school hours. 16 year old Buffy Anne Summers was the last girl to leave school that day. She had been trying to get her head screwed on right again, after the nightmares she'd had a couple nights ago. Ever since that night, she'd noticed that her workouts with the cheerleading squad had become so much easier. She also felt hungry, all the time. And she'd accidently broken the lock on her locker by pulling it too hard. She had no idea why these things were happening to her, and it was freaking her out.

So to keep from thinking about it, Buffy was spending more time at the school gym, working herself to exhaustion. She paused for a drink, when she heard footsteps behind her. Feeling a little scared, she whirled around. Ten feet away stood a tall man in a brown trench coat and a wide brimmed hat.

"Catch!" He said before throwing a knife at Buffy's head.

Which Buffy caught.

"Well done!" The man exclaimed.

"You threw a knife at my head." She said in a hallow voice.

"Yes, and you caught it. It means you are the one." He said in a joyful tone of voice.

"You _threw_ a knife at my _head_." Buffy repeated.

"Wait, Merrick, did you do the knife throw introduction?" A voice called out from the doorway, causing the man to spin around and Buffy to look over while holding said knife. "Boss isn't going to like that!" The voice laughed.

"I made sure it was the rubber one!" Merrick complained in a plaintive tone of voice.

"Did you even introduce yourself or explain anything before chucking a knife at her head?" The voice asked as three people entered the gym.

"That lessens the drama of it." Merrick said.

"Oooh, boss is gonna get you!" The man laughed in a sing song voice.

The woman in the lead marched up to Merrick and kicked him in the shin, hard. "We don't chuck knives at girls before introductions are made." She growled while Merrick clutched his shin from where he'd fallen. "You better hope she" the woman said, pointing at Buffy "is feeling generous and doesn't mention this incident to the Boss, because I am not covering your ass for a botched introduction."

"Would someone tell me what is going on, and why are you throwing knives at my head!" Buffy burst out angrily.

"Sorry about that dear. My name is Anna Crestly. I'm team lead and magic support. This is Ron Jones." Anna pointed at the man that had been making fun of Merrick earlier. "He's support and medical. This is Rupert Giles, team researcher and magic support as well. And finally, on the ground, who _should know better than to chuck knives at people_, is Merrick, trainer and security."

"And that explains what now?" Buffy asked, still confused about just who these people are.

"Sorry, this whole thing is a bit of a difficult intro to those who haven't been raised in the life. So, first things first, verify identity of chosen one with a short questionnaire, then we'll answer all your questions. Did you have nightmares of vampires two nights ago?"

"What? How could you possibly know that?"

"I'll take that as a yes." Anna stated briskly. "Have you noticed increased physical strength, beyond what was normal?"

"I broke my school lock on accident." Buffy answered in a small voice, afraid of where this was going, but sensing they had the answers she needed, so she'd humor them for now.

"Right then. I think that will do it for the questions." Anna finished, guessing that Buffy's patience was wearing thin. "Well, the nightmares you had, about vampires? I'm afraid to tell you that they are real. Pretty much all of that supernatural stuff is real. And you kinda won the cosmic lottery, so to speak. There's a special calling that goes out to one girl in every generation…"

Anna went on to explain about the Slayer, and the watchers council, the supernatural, and all that goes bump in the night.

After thinking about the new information for a while, Buffy asks in a timid voice. "So, what? I'm stuck in this war for the rest of my life? If I don't get killed by vampires first?"

"What?" Anna exclaims. "Oh, no no no, honey. Not at all. I'm sorry I gave you that impression. No, you see the Slayer spirit stays with you about 20 years. During that time, you do act as a kind of magnet to the supernatural. So yes, you're in more danger right now. But that's why we're here, to help you train and survive the whole thing. And we're just the meet n' greet team. The rest of the team is setting up in the safe house. After 20 years, basically "one generation" it moves on to the next girl. Then you're no longer a supernatural magnet. You can live a normal life. You get to keep the perks of the Slayer package though. You'll look like you're in your 20s when you're in your 40s."

"So, I'll survive this?" Buffy asked, starting to feel better about this whole deal.

"Oh, yes, you will honey. Back in the 40s, the Boss found out about how bad things had gotten for the Slayers, and he didn't like that one bit. So he cleaned house and reorganized everything to make sure the support needed goes to the Slayers. We haven't lost one Slayer since! You'll get everything you need to survive and thrive. You'll even get a salary, so you don't have to worry about missing out on a job or education if things get to stressful for you."

* * *

Carl was sitting at his home, enjoying a nice glass of Jaguar blood when his phone range. 'Soon, smart phones will be a thing again! Can't wait!' Carl thought before answering the phone.

"Speak." Carl answered.

"Boss, the intro went good. Buffy Summers is acclimating to the team well, and she's hopeful for prospects." Anna reported to Carl.

"That's good to hear. I'm glad things are going well. How is your gran doing by the way? It's been a while since I've seen her."

"Oh, Gramma Melly is having her on and off days. But she's comfortable. Sometimes she rambles about you and what you and Great Gramma used to get up to back in the day…" Anna rambled on.

Carl was satisfied with how things were turning out. With his enormous wealth continuing to grow, he was able to fund his organization. They still weren't global, but they were making inroads into more and more countries each year. With an immortal vampire at the helm, he would be able to make sure power hungry and corrupt leaders didn't pervert the purpose of the organization, or embezzle operating funds.

Maybe in another 50 years they would finally be able to make progress against those dark parts of the world that acted as breeding grounds that the stupid leeches kept spreading out from. That's the kind of "Balance" that he can get behind, where justice is served, and humans and peaceful races finally having their chance to lives in peace and exercise free will. Not the kind of status quo the Powers That Be call "Balance" where they help evil continue to prey on the innocent.

Once he finally gets the world cleaned up of evil demonic filth, he would think about doing something about automating his organization and turning himself human again. But that is still far in the future, Carl mused.


	12. Zabuza's Last Lesson

Naruto had just finished his tearful plea to Zabuza about Haku, demanding to know if Zabuza was really as heartless about Haku's sacrifice as he professed to be. For Naruto the issue was deeply connected to his continuing search for acceptance from the people of Konoha.

Naruto still hoped to make friends, and live a happy life. Naruto didn't even realize what emotions and desires were driving him, but for experienced ninja like Kakashi and Zabuza, who were used to seeing underneath the underneath, they knew. They could see.

But doing anything about emotions was usually something that the burnt out ninjas like Zabuza or Kakashi wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole. But Zabuza knew he wasn't getting out of this situation alive, one way or another.

On the edge of death, and seeing Haku uselessly sacrifice herself for him, as well as listening to Naruto's pleas, Zabuza's callused ninja heart finally _felt_ for the first time in 20 years. With tears pouring down his face, Zabuza acknowledged Naruto's need for emotional confirmation.

And then Gato showed up with his army, and kicked Haku's body. And a plan developed in Zabuza's mind. A sneaky and almost evil plan. One last act, before he departed this world. Despite having his heart touched by Naruto, this was still the same ninja that killed his entire graduating class, instead of just the one needed to pass.

"Hey, kid." Zabuza calmly stated as he tore up his bandages across his face with his teeth, grinning with his sharpened teeth. "Give me a kunai. I've got a debt to repay to Gato."

And just like that, the dumb, naïve blonde handed over a kunai. Holding the kunai in his teeth, and warily eyeing Kakashi, Zabuza made his move, running at Gato's army.

What Gato, Naruto, and even Kakashi didn't realize, is that Zabuza was an old hand at faking his injuries to make them appear more dire than they were, thus letting him sucker in tough opponents to let down their guard.

And Zabuza's left arm wasn't as crippled as he made it out to be. So Zabuza held on for the perfect moment, slashing through the army of dumb, pathetic bandits that Gato hired. He finally reached the little cockroach, and separated his head from his body.

In that moment when even Kakashi dropped his guard, Zabuza dropped the kunai from his mouth into his left hand and launched it. The sharp ninja tool flew true, and buried itself in Sasuke's neck, just as the young Uchiha was waking up.

Sasuke, Sakura, Kakashi, and Naruto all froze in shock. Sasuke's shock only lasted a moment before his blood spurted from his body. He soon lost consciousness and died another couple of seconds later.

Zabuza then finally collapsed. He could feel all his injuries catching up to him.

"Why?" The feral growl came from close by, the red chakra and intense malevolence reappearing in the air. "Why would you do that? The battle was over? Gato betrayed you. We…bonded. You said you cared about Haku. There was no reason to…Why would you do that!" Naruto finished with a shout, tears of rage and helplessness falling from his eyes.

Zabuza scoffed. "It's my final gift, my last lesson to you. I never could teach it to Haku, and it got her killed. Mercy to your enemies on the battlefield, is cruelty to your allies. If Haku had taken the fight seriously and gone for the kill right from the first, she would have ended you all quickly and helped me against Kakashi. We would have killed the bridgemaker, and Gato would have gotten his, if he still dared to betray me."

"Besides, you made me aware of just how much Haku meant to me. If not for that, I would have just died without protest. But you and your _friends_ got my daughter killed. For that, I took away a talented Leaf ninja who was your friend. Retaliation. It's the way the ninja world works kid. And since Haku liked you, I decided to give you this last lesson as a gift. Hopefully you'll take it to heart and survive for a while and remember the both of us."

Zabuza then trailed off as the blood loss became too great. He passed away and didn't even hear the loud cry of rage, or feel it when Naruto started punching his corpse.

* * *

Several days later, the bridge was finished. While the townsfolk of Wave celebrated the bridge that would allow them control of their island, and the death of Gato that oppressed them, the ninja that saved them stayed away from the celebration. Sasuke's death was too keenly felt for them to bear being among the celebrating villagers.

Naruto was staring at the graves of Haku and Zabuza, trying to come to terms with what had happened. Sasuke was gone, just like that, because he'd given Zabuza a kunai, and thought he was at least an ally. He'd gotten Sasuke killed. His rival, and hopefully his friend one day. They had finally connected through the tree walking exercises. He'd finally shown a bit of respect to Naruto, and now he was gone.

A hand landed on Naruto's shoulder. Naruto looked back into the single eye of Kakashi.

"It's not your fault, Naruto. It's mine. I'm your sensei, I'm responsible for you. I shouldn't have let my guard down against Zabuza."

Naruto just grunted in response. Several moments of silence later, Naruto asked the question on his mind. "Is what he said right sensei? Is that really how the ninja world is?"

Kakashi sighed. He had so enjoyed Naruto's exuberance, he hadn't wanted to squash his enthusiasm. But now, it seems he'd made many mistakes in how he taught his first genin team.

"Yes, Naruto. That's generally how it is. Enemies will pull last minute suicide attacks, on the off chance that they can kill just a few more. In the last ninja war there were all kinds of despicable, underhanded ploys used to kill. And not always only by our enemies, either. We too used all kinds of ploys to get an upper hand in battle." Kakashi paused to rub his hand over his face wearily.

"Giving enemies a chance in combat often leads to the deaths of your own allies. It doesn't mean that we can't make enemies into allies, the Senju and Uchiha clans were proof enough of that. But combat and the negotiation room are two separate places. In combat, you can't allow the enemy mercy. I momentarily forgot that, and unfortunately Sasuke paid the price."

Naruto nodded soberly in response. "I need to think about this some more sensei." Naruto soberly said as he moved off into the woods.

"We leave early tomorrow, so stay close, and get some rest tonight." Kakashi called out before Naruto got out of sight. Naruto acknowledged with a wave of his hand over his shoulder.

Kakashi sighed as he saw Naruto disappearing in the trees. How would the blonde knucklehead adapt to this? To the death of a friend? Would he be able to bounce back, or would he lose that fundamental aspect of exuberance and joy in life that had always meant so much to Kakashi, that reminded him of his father?

Only time would tell.

* * *

AN: So this was a pretty short idea I had about how Zabuza could have reacted that would have had an even bigger effect on Naruto than just Haku's nindo influencing Naruto. Yeah, Naruto was affected by Zabuza and Haku dying, but let us be realistic here. They were enemies and he only had one encounter with Haku beyond combat. He just didn't have time to grow a strong bond with Haku.

But Sasuke? The guy that he struggled for years to get respect from all through their academy time? The guy that Naruto was _finally_ getting some hint of respect and friendship from? If he died, how would Naruto react?

So I can see several things happening in the future of this fic.

If we're going with realistic, then Kakashi would undergo a review of his actions and behavior. From how he trained his genin, to why he didn't return to Konoha when it was shown that their client lied about the danger of the mission. He would at the least lose the position of sensei of team seven. Since he is too valuable an asset to lose, he might get thrown back into Anbu work.

If we were going unrealistic, the Civilian council would be baying for Naruto's blood, cause he's just eeeevil! Jiraiya would then have to come and spirit his godson out of Konoha in the middle of the night just ahead of the headsman's axe. Then they would go on all kinds of high jinx fueled adventures, while actually training Naruto up. I like to think that the two would eventually end up being kind of like how Harry Potter and Sirius Black were in that one fic "A Black Comedy" by nonjon. Womanizing and highjinx abound, while kicking butt.

Back to a serious fic:

I think Naruto would be resilient enough to bounce back from this trauma. He wouldn't be quite as happy go lucky, and would definitely bury himself in training. He would end up being a bit more ruthless on the battlefield, but he would still have his talk no jutsu, in my opinion. He would only probably use it when battle has yet to be started, or when he has the enemy captured and subdued, instead of the middle of combat from then on.

Sakura could easily go either way here. She could toughen up and start to actually train to commemorate her Sasuke. Or she could realize the danger being a ninja actually is, and decide being a field ninja isn't for her. Maybe go into the medical field with her perfect chakra control.

As far as pairings go, I personally am not really a fan of the Naruto/Sakura pairing. To this point Sakura has been quite violent and abusive about rejecting Naruto.

"But Naruto needs to be rewarded for his devotion for pursuing her for years!"

No. Unrequited feelings don't automatically mean that he "deserves" the girl. That's not how it works. And if we're going with that standard, then Hinata has been mooning over Naruto just as long if not longer, so she deserves the boy to finally notice her. But they don't. Whatever, not important.

So if I were to figure out how Naruto and Sakura got from abusive and unrequited to romance, I'd first separate them as soon as they got back to Konoha. Split up Team 7. Sakura goes to the medics, Naruto goes to a new team, one where a sensei actually works on his weaknesses beyond just telling him to get better chakra control. I'm talking taijutsu, tactics, more jutsu, and of course SEALS!

Then, after a few years, he and Sakura meet again. By that point Naruto has calmed down a bit, gotten rid of the Orange Jumper of Social Doooom, and is looking really yummy to Sakura. Then they start getting to know each other for the first time, really. I don't think either of them truly "saw" the other while in the academy or while on a team together.

So that's how I would handle a Naruto/Sakura pairing if I could. I'm pants at writing out long romance though, hehe.

But what I'd prefer, since I like the Naruto/Hinata pairing, is to still have team 7 split apart. And while Naruto is being depressed and moody at his failure, Hinata sees him and realizes that Naruto also has his down days. He isn't just a fire of neverending warm feelings for her to warm herself on while being too afraid to interact with him.

So she finally picks up her courage, that we all know is hiding deep inside her, and approaches him. She starts training with him, listening to his issues, sharing her own. And they start to get to know each other. They get close, and start making plans to change the way things work, starting with Hinata's family. That's right, they make plans to get rid of the Hyuga seal of slavery.

Which leads to Naruto learning SEALS! (Anyone get the idea that I love the idea of the sealing art? Lol)

And this is how I would jump start Naruto's maturity and have him focused on training hard without having to wait until Akatsuki starts targeting him. Or have the bonehead realize that Hinata likes him without having to wait until Pein destroys Konoha, and Hinata tanks a hit for him, then confesses her feelings while they are still on the battlefield.

Be sure to let me know how wrong either Sakura or Hinata are for Naruto in the comments section, viewers. (I'm mostly joking, but I would be interested in how this plot bunny went over with people)


	13. Xander and Carl exchange

Carl blinked in shock. He was awfully confused at the moment at just where he was. He had just finished up boot camp and was about to start his week of leave before he reported for his MOS training. But now he was standing in an unfamiliar town at night, clutching an old rifle and wearing army fatigues that looked like they came from the Vietnam War era.

Looking around, he saw dozens of little munchkin monsters running around, growling and howling, biting and snapping at anything near them.

"What the hell…?" Carl muttered as he tried to make sense of what was going on. He had a vague suspicion, but that kind of thing doesn't really happen, right?

Carl watched as the beasties turned their eyes towards him, looking pretty hungry. "Nuh uh, not gonna happen." Carl muttered as he lifted the rifle to his shoulder. He fired a warning shot over their heads, before aiming directly at them. He was relieved that the monsters jumped in fright and ran off at the loud noise. "At least I didn't have to shoot any of them if it turns out my suspicions are right."

"Xander!" A girl's voice called out from behind Carl.

He whirled around and saw a redhead girl dressed in a short leather skirt and a sexy revealing blouse. He must have stared a bit too long at the girl, since she flushed and covered her assets.

"It's me, Willow!"

Carl groaned. Suspicion confirmed. He was stuck in Xander's body during the Halloween episode of the Buffy the Vampire show. Right now all the little monsters running around were actual kids, so he didn't want to kill any of them. But there were still some pretty big dangers out and about on this night.

Carl quickly thought about what he could accomplish in the short amount of time he had while the Halloween spell that turned everyone into their costumes was in effect. He came up with a simple plan.

"Willow, I need you to listen very carefully to me, can you do that?" At Willow's nod, Carl continues. "Everyone who purchased a costume from Ethan's Halloween store turned into their costume due to a spell he cast." To show her he was serious, he swiped his arm through her form. She gasped in shock at being insubstantial.

"Never mind how I know for now. That's not the important thing. Here's what we need to do. First, I need to know where your body is so I can get it to safety."

"Itsrightoverthere!OhdoyouthinkIcangetmy-"

"Willow! Focus! Action now, thinking later!" Carl interrupted the girl before she could get going. He didn't have time to sit around playing 20 questions. When she seemed to be tracking Carl gave her some instructions. "Okay, I'll pick up your body. While I do that, see if you can find Buffy. She's turned into her costume as Lady Elizabeth so she won't recognize you. Convince her to follow you to safety, and come back to join us. Got it so far?" At her nod, Carl nodded back. "Good, go find her now."

Carl made his way over to Willows body and pulled her into a fireman's carry on his left shoulder. He kept a wary eye out for any attacking costumed kids.

Only a few moments later, Willow showed up with Buffy following behind.

"Spirit, where are we going? And how will I get home?" Carl heard the Lady Elizabeth complaining.

"I'm glad to see you're safe." Carl greeted the two and interrupted whatever Willow was going to say. "Right now our spirit will guide us to a place of safety where we may rest until this spell is broken, which will allow us to return back to our homes. If you would guide the way to Buffy's house, Willow? Remember, questions later Willow."

Carl could tell that Willow was definitely suspicious about his un-Xander-like behavior, but he couldn't be bothered to talk about the issues while they were out on the street and vulnerable. He was relieved when Willow showed that she had her priorities in order and swallowed her questions and led them to Buffy's house.

Thankfully it was very close and only took a minute of walking to get to it.

"Lady Elizabeth, if you would open your handbag, I think you'll find a key that opens the door to this house. When we are inside and a bit safer, I'll answer what questions I can." Carl stated when they found out the door was locked.

After digging for the key, they were soon inside. Carl placed Willow's body on the couch as gently as he could. He then stood up and looked at the two ladies who were watching him closely.

"Okay. First of all, there is a chaos mage named Ethan Rayne who cast a spell on the town. Everyone who wore one of his costumes was changed into their costumes. Evidently it brought the spirit of whoever the costume was designed to imitate to possess their body for the night."

"But Xander, you wore one of his costumes too, why are you still you?" Willow interrupted.

Carl sighed. "Because I'm not Xander. My name is Carl Edwards." Carl admitted. He watched Willows eyes grow big at his revelation. "Listen, we can talk about it later. For now, I need you to tell me the phone number to the library so we can have Giles go and break the spell so we can return to our proper places."

Carl picked up the phone and was relieved to hear a dial tone. Willow recited the number and Carl dialed it. He made sure to keep an eye on Lady Elizabeth, remembering that she was very flighty and might run when startled.

"Hello." Giles answered on the fourth ring.

"Hey, G-man. Listen very carefully. Ethan Rayne has cast a spell that turned everyone into their costumes for the evening. Willow went as a ghost so she's a bit insubstantial at the moment. Buffy went as a noble women, so she is a bit out of sorts, not being used to this time period. So we need you to break the spell. Somewhere in Ethan's Halloween store is a bust of Janus. If you break the bust, the spell should end. Willow, do you remember the address?" Willow told Carl the address, who relayed it to Giles.

"Okay, Xander. Stay safe, and make sure Buffy and Willow stay safe as well."

"You got it." Carl hung up, and smiled reassuringly at the two ladies who had watched him. "Okay, just a matter of time before that spell is broken."

Willow was just opening her mouth to ask a question when they heard a scream from outside the front door.

After making sure that Lady Elizabeth would stay, Carl rushed out the door, and saw Cordelia on the ground while a large humanoid canine looking creature was hunched over her, about to slash at her. Carl aimed his rifle and fired a shot, winging the creature's shoulder.

The canine creature yelped in pain and ran off, leaving Cordelia behind. Carl took a few steps to Cordelia's side, keeping an eye out for any further threats. He reached down and dragged her to her feet, and back inside the house, ignoring for the moment anything she was saying.

He closed and locked the door. He then moved Willow's body to a chair instead of the couch and dragged the couch to the front door. He moved a few other heavy things to the door, barricading the front door from being opened easily so Lady Elizabeth couldn't run off. He didn't feel like chasing her around while Spike was on the prowl.

Turning around, he saw that the three girls were staring at him.

"What the hell is going on, looser? I know this is all you people's fault, somehow."

Carl smile wryly at the abrasive girl. "Give me a second to barricade the back door before we start talking."

As he moved on to the kitchen door, he could hear Willow babbling to Cordelia about how she wasn't a cat girl, she was an actual girl named Cordelia. He briefly chuckled at the smart but sometimes flighty girl.

Just as Carl arrived at the kitchen, he saw the back door open and Angel step inside. Carl sighed at the irresponsible nature of Buffy, inviting a vampire into her house. 'Whatever. After Giles breaks the bust of Janus, it won't be my problem.' Carl thought.

He gave the soul cursed vampire a nod. "Angel, help me barricade the door while we wait out this little dust up." Carl almost laughed at the suspicious look Angel gave him for not doing what Xander would have done and insulted him.

Once they dragged the kitchen table to the door and barricaded it, Carl opened the fridge and found some sodas to pass around to give them something to occupy their hands with.

Willow marched up to Carl and tried poking him in the chest, which didn't work. "Answers, mister. Now." Undeterred at not being able to poke him, she stated with her resolve face.

Carl chuckled a bit. "Fine, fine. Now that we've got a moment of semi peace. First things first, for those who are just joining us, the costumes that people got from Ethan's were used in a spell to summon up the person or thing the costume is imitating. Buffy dressed as Lady Elizabeth." Carl motioned to where she was clutching her soda nervously. "Willow dressed as a ghost. And Xander dressed as a soldier. My name is Carl. And I come from somewhere a bit sideways."

He took a breath to think for a moment.

"When I say sideways, I mean I come from a different world, a different dimension where some seer saw your lives and made a television show out of it."

"What does-"

"You can't be serious-"

The girls started to shout stuff, but Carl wasn't having any of it. He wasn't Xander, he had no desire to be patient with them when he was trying to pass them relevant information.

"Shutup!" Carl shouted them down. "Listen, I'm not Xander, and I don't currently have the patience, or an emotional connection to you ladies to let myself be badgered by your idiosyncrasies." Carl bluntly said when he had their attention.

"You really aren't Xander, are you?" Angel muttered. "He would never have raised his voice like that to his friends."

"Exactly. I'm not Xander. Now, I've already sent Giles on his way to break the spell, so we don't have much time. There's critical information you absolutely need to know. I saw some of your probable futures from the show, so I'll fill you in on some big threats."

"The first thing has to do with you Angel. The curse that gave you your soul has an out clause. If you have a moment of pure happiness, you lose your soul and will let Angelus out. So no fucking Buffy until you either get rid of the escape clause, or turn yourself human. I'd look into Mohra blood, if I were you, it might work to turn you human."

If there were any lingering doubts inside Angel's mind that the person in Xander's body wasn't Xander, it was that he didn't use his curse as an excuse to try to break up him and Buffy, and even gave them advice on how to be together.

"The second big thing is that the Mayor of the city is a 100 year old Warlock –NO TALKING!" Carl roared when it looked like they were about to interrupt again. "I've got too much information to pass to deal with back and forth conversation! Just listen and remember everything for now. You can freak out later. The mayor is working on setting up an ascension ritual that will turn him into a giant demon snake. The finale, if you don't stop him first, will be on your high school graduation day, during the eclipse."

"The next thing has to do with you, Cordelia. Your father isn't paying his taxes or something, which will leave you and your family poor when the IRS comes for him. Try to start squirreling away money so you don't end up poor and struggling. From what I remember, it's all part of a plan a rogue Powers That Be has to make you into her earthly avatar, which would result in your death. The plan eventually has you getting pregnant from a half human half vampire spawn, which births her avatar." Carl chuckled at her look of disgust on the girl's face.

"The big thing to remember about the Powers That Be, is that they don't necessarily care about good. They are all about keeping the status quo, and they want everyone to conform to their plan. So you can't automatically trust them to have your best interests in mind. Cause you can bank on it that the evil side is always working solely for evil, so when the supposed good side only fights a holding action, and sometimes even handicaps their own champions of good, then evil will eventually win the war of attrition. So anyone claiming to work for the balance is seriously deluded and may even be working against you if the plan calls for it."

"And if Buffy ever dies again, you can't go casting spells or rituals to bring her back. If you do, the supernatural imbalance will release the First Evil from its cage, and it will work to destroy everything you hold dear."

"Next on the menu is-"

Suddenly Carl felt a wave of energy rushing through the room, casing a headache to explode in his head, and Carl passed out.

* * *

Carl felt himself floating in blackness, wondering why he wasn't back in his body already. Looking around, he saw hundreds, or even thousands of floating glowing bubbles.

"Dammit. Those are probably memories, aren't they? I'm not getting back home, am I?" Carl groused angrily. He was pretty pissed that he got hijacked from his body and life and thrown into Xander's. Was Xander now in his body? Damn.

He saw one of the bubbles floating close to him and in anger tried to slap it away from him. The moment his hand touched the bubble, he was suddenly reliving the memory of Xander.

It was more than just watching a movie. Carl experienced everything Xander did, from his senses, to his feelings and thoughts. It was as if he lived the memory.

Carl lived through the memory of being 13 years old in an abusive home, and getting slapped around when he was being lippy when his dad was on the sauce.

Eventually the memory ended, and Carl was back in the dark void, looking at thousands, or even millions of other memory bubbles.

He tried everything he could to wake up, to escape, to not have to experience more of Xander's life. Because it wasn't him, it wasn't his life, he didn't want those experiences. He wanted to return to his life. But Carl was unsuccessful, and a moment later another memory bubble landed on him.

This time the memory was of Xander's life when he was 8 years old, before his father got injured on the job and started hitting the bottle. It was a memory of Xander's dad teaching him to throw and catch a baseball. The warm memories and feelings of pride in doing a good job at what his father taught him followed Carl back into the void.

Carl finally sighed, resigned.

"I'm not getting out of this any other way, am I?" Carl rhetorically asked before reaching out for another memory bubble. If the only way out of the void was through the memories, then he might as well get started.

Carl started seeking out the memory bubbles to speed the process up. But sometimes the emotions roiling in Carl's gut from reliving Xander's life was just too much, and he had to pause to get a handle on it.

Most of those difficult memories were from just after Xander's father had gotten injured and started his downslide. Xander still had such hope that his father would get better, but instead he kept crawling into the bottle and letting his anger out on his family.

The complex mix of hope, anger, helplessness, hopelessness, and a bit of despair that was only relieved by his two best friends Jesse and Willow was a difficult mix to handle, even as the adult that Carl was.

But he eventually got through them, and worked out how to maintain his equilibrium.

Carl relived the first moments of time when he met Buffy, the new hot girl at school. He watched how they saved Willow, but couldn't save Jesse, and he almost accidentally staked his brother in all but blood.

The seeds of the hatred Xander felt for vampires was planted in that moment.

He experienced the sheer terror when they faced off against Catherine Madison, Amy's mother who had swapped bodies with Amy to re-live her glory high school days.

Carl experienced the sheer sexual attraction the pheromones from the giant preying mantis that posed as their substitute teacher released, followed by more terror at being a normal human chained up in the basement, waiting to be the after sex snack. The relief and embarrassment he felt when Buffy rescued and saw him in that situation was excruciating for Carl to experience.

'It's no wonder that Buffy doesn't really respect Xander, after seeing him in so many situations where she had to rescue him. No matter what he does, or how much good, it would probably never wipe out the image she solidified of him early on being helpless and getting in the way.'

Carl then experienced the incident with the Hyena Primal Spirit. The sense of power, speed, and freedom that Xander labored under was intoxicating. Carl had to hand it to Xander, being able to give up that sense of power for fear of turning on his friends says a lot about his character.

'And thank God that Xander didn't participate in eating Flutie.' Carl thought in relief. 'Although raw pig under the influence of a primal spirit tastes delicious.'

And as expected, Carl was forced to experience all of Xander's stupidity and angsting to Willow over Buffy not noticing him. Carl sighed at the unintentional cruelness of Xander. 'Just a dumb teenager, like all of them. Can't blame him for being oblivious, or Willow for being too shy to tell Xander of her feelings.'

Carl was especially appreciative of the experience that let him feel all the pain and emotions of Xander. It was so great to know what it was like to be punched in the face by vampires, and Moloch in his cyber body, and other things.

The next few memories of special note were interspersed among all the normal every day things. Doing the bare minimum of work to ensure he at least got Cs. Carving stakes and researching things that go bump in the night. Hanging out at the Bronze and shooting the breeze with Buffy and Willow.

A kid that spawned the city's nightmares after being beaten into a coma by his little league coach. Trying to save Cordelia from an invisible ghost that ended up being Marcy who had been bullied until she turned invisible.

'And whatever happened to that girl?' Carl thought briefly.

And finally Xander's finest moment till that date, forcing the moping vampire with a soul to lead him to the Master's lair and saving Buffy with CPR. Then the fight at the school with the Hellmouth being opened, and the apocalypse being stopped at the last moment.

Carl frowned in his mind though as Buffy immediately left afterwards to get a handle on coming back to life, leaving Xander and Willow hanging as they try to keep up with patrols and slaying the newborn leaches.

Xarl cursed in his mind as he almost kissed Willow but got cock blocked by a vampire. And then Buffy showing up again ruined any momentum he made toward seeing his girl Willow as the datable woman she was.

Carl especially cursed when Xander let Buffy trample all over him by using him to make Deadboy jealous.

After experiencing so many of Xander's memoriesw, Carl had realized that he was likely stuck in Xander's body from now on. Feeling how embarrassed Xander felt when Buffy just used him like that to try to get a reaction from her corpse of a paramour killed any kind of interest Carl may have had in getting closer romantically with Buffy.

Sure he still thought she was hot, but there was no way he was putting up with that kind of use and throw away behavior.

Xarl once more sighed in resignation at the stupidity he exhibited when, after saving Cordelia, he brushed off her thanks for saving her because he got a bit jealous of Buffy and Angel getting closer.

'No!' Carl shouted in his mind. 'That wasn't me! That idiocy was Xander!'

It was getting harder and harder to differentiate what he had done, and what he was just experiencing.

Then Xarl almost cried over Ampata sacrificing herself so he could live. That amount of devotion deserved to be cherished and rewarded, but it was not to be. Carl didn't know if there was magic involved in making them feel so strongly for each other in so short a time, but he felt the emotions. It wasn't a lie to say that he cared greatly for her.

But a moment later Carl was caught up in another of Xander's memories.

Eventually Carl saw that he was floating in a dark void. The sparkly floating memories were not present, having all been used up.

Carl had finally caught up with all of Xander's memories, and was now floating in a black void. He saw there was just one more memory bubble. A floating bubble of light was hanging in the distance. He willed himself to move to the light, and soon found that it wasn't another bubble, it was a torch that illuminated the torn up body of a Hyena the size of a bus lying on a plot of ground floating in the void.

Carl landed on the ground in front of the Hyena and studied it. It looked very different from those he had seen in documentaries. The hyenas he had seen in documentaries looked like a bunch of ugly retarded cousins of this Hyena in front of him. Even with its broken body covered in wounds, it exuded a sense of magnificence, nobility, strength, pack.

A small flickering of life in the Hyena's eyes caught Carl's attention, and he moved forward to put his hand on its muzzle. For some reason he didn't feel fear in its presence. Once he touched the majestic creature, he relived a fragment of the creature's life.

Carl had snapshots of memories play out, starting from when he was a cub, being raised by his family. They hunted, they played, and they defended themselves from their enemies.

Unlike in the documentaries, the enemies weren't lions, they were demons. Demons of every shape and size roamed the land. And Carl's family fought against those abominable creatures. The Hyena whose memories Carl was experiencing grew strong as he grew up. After many, many years, he became the protector of his family. He stood in front of all the enemies, keeping his family safe.

But one day, he was ambushed by the demons. He was able to hold off the hordes long enough for his mate and cubs to escape, but he was surrounded by enemies and on the verge of dying. In his desperation, he mustered all his power and _tore_ through space, casting himself into a void that the demons didn't dare follow.

For long years he wandered the void, exhausted and wounded, unable to find his way back to his family. Until one day he smelt the faint whiff of home. He wearily followed the scent back to the source, and soon found himself in a human body.

It wasn't actually _home_, but it was better than the void. He even found a strong female to have cubs with, but she fought against him. And then a spell was cast that took almost all of his remaining strength, leaving him on the verge of death.

Carl felt the nudge then from the Hyena. He wanted Carl to finish him off. Eat his heart to gain the strength needed to protect the pact. It was the last thing he could do for the closest thing he had to a cub to pass on his legacy. At least the demons wouldn't get his strength, bringing harm to his family.

{Grow Strong, little pup. Kill the demons, protect the family.}

Carl felt immense sadness inside at the passing of the strong and majestic creature. He had experienced only a small fraction of his life. But Carl had felt how powerful those feelings for family were. Carl could still feel the strength of determination to protect his people from harm.

Looking at the enormous corpse, Carl's face set in a determined expression. He reached out and took a bite of the creature's massive shoulder. Impossibly a large chunk disappeared from the shoulder, filling Carl's mouth as he chewed. Swallowing the bite, he felt a surge of power rush through his body.

Not hesitating any more, Carl continued to take bites of the body. He continually ate and consumed the remains of the Hyena Primal Spirit. Carl didn't stop with just the muscle. He ate everything. The Eyes, Nose, Ears, Tongue, Brain, Heart, Guts, and even the Bones.

With each part of the creature eaten, Carl felt a corresponding part of himself being strengthened. Each bite that he took and swallowed enhanced Carl's own body.

He felt full so full of energy!

Finally Carl had completely consumed the Primal Beast. He looked up at the torch that illuminated the scene. The fire from the torch floated away from the torch and settled into him, giving him a sense of warmth inside.

The darkness then engulfed Carl, and he passed out.

* * *

Carl finally woke up gasping in a physical body again. He sat up abruptly, looking around. He was still in Buffy's living room, which had apparently been put back in order. Everything seemed so much sharper to his senses. He could hear and understand the murmur of voices in the kitchen.

"Looks like Harris woke up." That was the voice of Angel, Carl recognized from Xander's memories.

"Finally. Everyone else was fine immediately, what kept Dorkboy." Looks like Cordelia hadn't left yet.

"Hey, leave him alone! He saved your life earlier!" Willow, dear Willow, defended him.

Cordelia snorted. "Whatever. From what I saw that wasn't Xander that saved me, but that Carl guy." And then in a very low voice that Carl only picked up because of his newly enhanced hearing. "Not like I'm going to make the mistake of thanking the dweeb again. Jerk."

Carl winced at the effect Xander's blunder had on his relationship with Cordelia. For good or ill, he was in this life now. Sure, he would try to do some research with the arcane books that Giles had, but Carl seriously doubted that they would have some spell to switch bodies with an alternate reality person. That kind of spell was more likely to invite a demon into his body here on the Hellmouth than do anything good for him.

So he had to face the fact that he was stuck here for good, as Xander.

'Yup, best get used to the name.' Xander thought to himself with a frown. 'And don't tell anyone you-'

"Xander! Oh my gosh, I'm so glad you're awake! You had me so worried, no one else stayed unconscious as long as you! Do you remember anything about the person that was possessing you? Are you okay?" Willow entered the living room with a rush and perched on the couch next to Xander, wanting to hug him, but afraid to initiate contact.

Ca-Xander opened his arms and engulfed the girl in a hug, smiling at her worry on his behalf.

"Yeah, I'm fine now Wils." Carl reassured the girl. Carl looked over at the rest of the group, Buffy, Angel, and Cordelia, and gave them an uncertain grin. "So, uh. What happened, guys?"

Buffy and Angel exchanged meaningful glances, while Cordelia narrowed her eyes.

"Oh my god, we turned into our costumes and you were telling us all these things about our future that you couldn't possibly have known. Do you remember anything about it? Are you sure you're okay Xander?" Willow babbled at Xander.

Obviously he couldn't come out and say that he wasn't Xander. He had Xanders memories, after all. Maybe he was Xander but thought he was Carl because of the influx of Carl's memories? Nah, he wasn't going to second guess his very existence and identity like that. He felt like Carl with Xander's memories, so that's what he was. But since he was stuck in Xander's body with no way back, he would now be Xander.

'Whoa, wondering mind.' Carl snapped his attention back to his friends.

"Uh, now that I think about it, I remember what that Carl guy did while he was here. It was like I was stuck in the back of my mind, watching the events play out. So, any idea if the stuff he told us was true?"

Everyone exchanged looks.

"Do you remember anything else from him? Like anything to help us?" Buffy asked, but Xander saw that Cordelia was paying extra attention.

Xander shook his head no. "Sorry guys, I'm coming up blank there. All I know is what he told you. Which means that we need to make preparations to make sure certain things don't happen."

"Like Angelus getting out." Angel whispered.

"Like my death. Again." Buffy whispered.

"Like becoming poor." Cordelia whispered.

"Or stopping the Mayor, a major bad guy." Xander pointed out after a bit, still enjoying having Willow cuddle up to him. "But what time is it now? Should we be looking for the kids that were trick or treating now, or what?"

Cordelia snorted. "You've been out for a couple hours. We already went out and herded all the kids back to their homes. Way to slack, looser."

For some reason, Cordelia's habitual complaining and insults didn't bother Carl anymore. If anything, the insults seemed to be full of good will. It was like she used insults to show how much she cared.

Carl/Xander snorted. "That's me, Mr. Malingerer." He joked. "Well, I'm glad to see everyone I care about okay. And Deadboy looks okay too."

Xander just sat back and enjoyed the scowls sent his way at his insult. Just because he was polite to Angel during the crisis, didn't mean that he didn't share Xander's opinion of a 250+ year old vampire hitting on a 16 year old. Especially when that girl was the Vampire Slayer. Having a relationship with the undead when Buffy was full of the Vampire Slayer spirit was probably what messed with her in some magical, mystical fashion.

"Okay, then. Thanks for the glares everyone." Xander thought about it, but went ahead and decided to broach the topics on his mind. "Okay, before we break for the evening, I've got some things to say. Some of them are of the good, so I'll start with those."

After some wary nods Xander took a deep breath. It was amazing how hard Xander's memories made this.

"First, the easy one." Xander paused for a moment. "While I was passed out, I was having some dreams of some of the things that have happened recently, and I realized that I acted like a jerk to you Cordelia when you were trying to thank me for saving you from the Frankenstein guys. I'm sorry I blew you off then. I didn't mean to give you the feeling that you weren't important. I was just being a dumb teenage male. Forgive me?"

"Whatever dweeb. This isn't some Kodak moment." Carl could tell that despite her caustic words, Cordelia was pleased at what he'd said.

"Thus translated: Thanks for saying that, it makes me feel better, but there's no way I'm letting you know I'm soft enough to have such emotions. Dweeb." Xander joked, eliciting a snort of laughter from Cordelia.

Buffy looked back and forth, wondering just what she should think of it, while Angel just looked bored.

"Okay, next." Xander looked down at Willow where she was still snuggled up against him on the couch. "Hey, wanna go on a date next weekend, Willow?"

"What?" Willow blankly said.

"You. Me. Date. This weekend. Yes or no?"

"Yes!" Willow exclaimed, smiling hugely at him, which Xander returned the smile.

He then looked back at the group standing in front of him, letting the smile fade away.

"Okay, now some things that I feel that I have to get off my chest. I know what I'm about to say is not what people want to hear, so I'm only going to voice it this once, just so it's out there, and I'll never bring it up again. Seriously, if anyone starts talking about it around me, I'm just going to go find something else to do so I won't get dragged into the discussion."

Carl noticed the wary looks his way. Taking a deep breath, he began.

"Angel, I find it incredibly creepy and disgusting that you, a vampire who is older than America, is dating a 16 year old girl. Have you even gotten blood tests done to make sure that you aren't a carrier for any STDs left over from your time as Angelus? He was very promiscuous if I'm not mistaken."

"Buffy, as a teenage male, I'm firmly of the belief that any romance that smacks of Romeo and Juliet is to be avoided assiduously. Any romance that ends in the death of one or both of the people involved isn't romantic, it's tragic. I know I shouldn't stick my nose in your dating choices, so this is the only time I'll ever say anything about it unless you ask my opinion. But part of my plan in life is to make sure that you, that all of us really, stay alive long enough to enjoy a long life. You're not destined to die, despite the stupid lies the damned Watcher's council have been feeding you. So I don't want you to feel like you have to somehow fit some kind of epic romance in your life just so you can really live before you kick the bucket. As far as I'm concerned, you'll die in your bed, surrounded by your kids and grandkids years and years from now."

"Okay, I've said what I wanted to say, let the smacking commence." Xander then scrunched up, waiting for someone to hit him for being way too blunt.

After a few seconds, he opened his eyes when he didn't get hit. He looked around, and saw everyone looking at each other, rather than him.

Angel and Willow had guilty looks as they looked at Buffy. Cordelia had a look of disgust on her face as she looked at Angel, and Buffy was giving Xander an inscrutable look.

"You really mean that?" Buffy asked, not specifying what she was referring to.

Xander nodded seriously, looking Buffy in the eyes. "I do. I plan to do everything in my power to make sure we all live. That we get to have lives beyond the fight. You're not alone in the fight."

"I…" Buffy didn't have any words Xander offered his other arm for a hug, and Buffy almost collapsed on the couch into a three way hug between Xander, Willow, and Buffy.

While Willow was babbling something about being sorry she was pushing Buffy to have a doomed romance, Xander raised an eyebrow at Cordelia. "There's room for more cathartic hugging here, if you're of a mindset."

Cordelia snorted, amused despite herself and sat herself on a chair. "I'm fine dorkboy. I know who I am. I don't need group therapy."

Angel just stood there awkwardly for a bit, before starting to depart by the back door.

"Angel!" Xander called out. The soul cursed vampire paused for a bit at the doorway. Buffy and Willow paused to see what else Xander had to say.

"Just a reminder, you didn't do the things that Angelus did. I think it's time you stopped beating yourself up and punishing yourself for what the blood demon did in your body while you were away. Seeing you mope and be depressed probably made the demon happy anyway. I bet it would be torture for it if you started doing good deeds. Helping save people from the things that go bump in the night, volunteer at soup kitchens, whatever. And it will help you tip the scales further in your balance whenever you finally kick the bucket for good. At some point in the future we could all join up for a barbecue up there in the light."

Angel looked over his shoulder at the group of teenagers sitting in the living room and faintly smiled. "I've got some things to do. I'll see you around."

"Angel…" Buffy trailed off as Angel departed.

"Maybe he's going to check into what that Carl guy said earlier, about looking for a way to turn human." Willow offered, still somewhat hoping that Buffy would focus on Angel so she had less competition for Xander.

"Well, shall we start escorting the maidens home to safety?" Xander asked in an exaggerated tone of voice, hoping for humor to displace the seriousness of the moment.


	14. A New Life In New York

The room was a typical teenager's bedroom. Clothes were strewn about instead of being placed in a hamper or a drawer. Posters of actresses, games, and bands adorned the walls. A game system set up was prominently displayed in one corner of the room.

A groan emanated from under the blankets piled up on the bed. A moment later a hand dug its way out of the pile and pulled down the blankets, revealing a wide eyed boy of 13 years of age.

"What a horrible dream!" The boy exclaimed before flinching and launching himself out of bed. "What the hell?"

"Watch your language!" A female voice sternly said from behind the boy.

The boy spun around, taking note of the unfamiliar room while doing so. In front of him stood a lady that looked like she was in her mid thirties, but she took care of her health and appearance. She was already dressed and in make up for her day.

The boy stared, wide eyed, in confusion for a moment.

"If you start using foul language, I'll have to take a bar of soap to your mouth, Andrew Bartholomew Smith!" The lady in front of the now named Andrew further warned when it seemed like he wasn't going to respond.

"Okay, I'll watch my language." The boy obediently promised in order to not cause a scene with the lady. He already knew he was in trouble. He could tell that he was in someone else's body, in a strange room in an unknown house with a stranger chastising him on his manners. He needed some breathing room to figure out what the hel- what was going on.

"Good. Now, it's time to get ready. If you don't shake a leg, you'll be late to your first day of school. Go get ready, and come down for breakfast." The lady stated before leaving the room, shutting the door behind her.

The newly named Andrew collapsed face first onto his new but unfamiliar bed.

"So it wasn't a dream after all." He moaned into the pillows. He really had gone on a roller coaster, the safety bar had failed, and he had fallen to his death. Which meant, he had transmigrated into the body of this young man named Andrew. "I'm so screwed. Wasn't I supposed to get the memories of the body I inhabit to help make the transition easier?"

The man who used to be Carl but was now Andrew bounced up from the bed. He had a look of determination on his face as he gazed into the mirror on the wall. He examined the features of his new face. He was surprised at how young he looked. He looked like he was barely into his teens. His brown hair and brown eyes and normal facial features made him a very average looking guy.

After looking over his new features, he patted his cheeks to give his system a little shock.

"Okay. There's nothing you can do about your current circumstances but go along with the flow. Try to get used to your new life." Andrew firmly put aside any ideas of dreaming butterflies for the time being. It wasn't conducive to his current circumstances, so navel gazing was something he would leave for a later time.

Looking around the room, Andrew began investigating what he could about the young man whose body he was occupying. From the decorations on the walls, he could see the young man liked movies and video games.

Ignoring the clothes scattered around the room, since he didn't know the original Andrew's organization method of which were clean and which were dirty, he opened the closet. He saw a variety of button down shirts hanging inside, along with several khaki trousers.

Raising his right arm, Andrew sniffed his armpit and decided that he needed to take a shower before getting ready for school. Grabbing a change of clothes, he exited the room and saw the open door to the bathroom down the hall.

15 minutes later he was freshly showered and dressed. At his young age he didn't need to shave, which saved him some time.

Luckily Andrew spotted "his" backpack already prepared for the first day of school. After rifling through the bag, he saw that he was going to be attending Midtown High School as a freshman.

"Why does that name sound so familiar?' Andrew wondered aloud, before shrugging the question away when an answer didn't come to mind.

The newly minted Andrew also found some basic paperwork that showed him that the original Andrew had been skipped a grade at the beginning of Middle School, so now he was a year younger than his classmates.

"Wonder if 'I' get along with my peers." Andrew pondered. He hadn't personally seen it in his previous life, but in all the stories he read when someone who was a genius and skipped grades, he engendered all kinds of hate and bullying behavior due to jealousy from the older students.

But with no journal readily evident that could tell him more information, he could only shelve the question for later.

"Get your tush in gear and get down here, Andrew!" A man's baritone voice came from downstairs.

Andrew realized that he had spent too long in exploring his new circumstances. Even if he had found a journal, he wouldn't have time to learn anything from it anyway.

"Coming!" Andrew yelled back, before quickly packing up his bag and making his way downstairs.

"Your breakfast is on the table. Your father will drive you to school on your first day to complete the paperwork. After that you'll have to take the bus like all the other students." Andrew's mother briskly spoke the moment he arrived in the dining area.

"Thanks." Andrew said as he sat at the empty seat. He did his best to ignore the strange look his new parents were giving him for his behavior. Apparently Andrew didn't usually act like he currently was? Since there was nothing he could do about it, Andrew decisively ignored the looks and just continued acting like everything was normal.

"Don't worry. I'm sure you'll find some friends and fit in better at High School than in Middle School." Andrew's new mom comforted him, thinking he was nervous about the new school and fitting in.

"Just act confident and be yourself son. I'm sure you'll be fine." Andrew's new dad added on.

Andrew just hummed and nodded in agreement with his mouth full of eggs. The less said right now as he was getting used to his new circumstances the better. Judging by the lack of noise in the house, and that there were no other place settings, Andrew assumed he was now an only child. Which meant that his new parents had plenty of attention focused solely on him, without the distractions of other kids. So he would have to be cautious not to do anything too outrageous.

'Just be a normal son and student and fit in with the crowds.' Andrew internally nodded. He could do that.

"But if it doesn't work out with your peers this time, at least be sure to continue keeping your grades up." Andrew's dad warned.

"Donald." Andrew's mother hissed at her husband and smacked him on the arm.

"Ow! What did you hit me for Mary?" Donald asked in confusion.

"Don't discourage him!" Mary hiss-whispered in a way and voice that gave the impression she was trying to not let Andrew hear. Naturally it was a complete failure, since they were right there. Andrew mentally rolled his eyes at his new parents. He kind of liked them already. At least it was funny to watch their dynamics.

"It's okay. I'm sure I'll do fine." Andrew piped up, unable to not comment.

"There, you hear? He'll be fine." Donald said in an aggrieved tone while rubbing his shoulder, as if he was actually hurt by the shoulder slap.

"Just because he's fine doesn't mean you should put extra pressure on him. He's already a year younger and outperforming all his classmates. The thing he needs now is our support, not doubt!" Marry lectured, having apparently read something recently in some parenting blogs.

"Okay, fine, you're right." Donald retreated, having recognized that he wouldn't be able to win the argument. He then looked over at Andrew. "We support you, son. We're proud of you. Keep up the good work."

Andrew's mouth twitched into a smile; he was barely suppressing the grin and laughter that wanted to bubble up. Seeing Donald's "forced-by-my-wife" expression and Mary's "good-boy-you-can-be-trained" expression was just too comedy duo to be confronted with so suddenly.

Especially since he was still feeling completely off balance because of his death and forced relocation, his emotions seemed to be on a rollercoaster and were easily affected.

Or was that the teenage hormones running through his new body?

Despite the silly way the couple in front of him acted, Andrew could really feel the care they had for their son. That realization actually made him feel a little guilty inside because he wasn't their original son. But in order to not cause problems, and give himself a chance to figure out what he was going to do from now on, he could only go along with what was happening in front of him as best he could.

"Thanks, mom, dad. I'm sure I'll be fine." Andrew smiled at his new parents with as much warmth as he could.

"Okay, son. Now, brush your teeth before leaving for the day." Mary smiled back at Andrew before collecting the dishes.

Andrew did as she said, brushing his teeth in the bathroom before joining his new dad in the car. As they drove to the school, Andrew paid careful attention to the neighborhood and the route to school in case he needed to find his way later while keeping one ear on the ramblings of his new father.

He had already found out that he was now living in New York City, which was a big difference from the west coast of California.

'But at least I ended up in a place where I can speak the language. I mean, if I ended up in somewhere like Japan or Russia, I would have been screwed since I didn't get the memory pack of my new body.'

After a short fifteen minute drive, they arrived at his new school. After finding a parking spot, Donald walked Andrew to the office and finished filling out some forms. Andrew got a school id, map, a schedule of his classes, the information on the bus schedule, and was sent on his way.

Andrew watched as his new father's car drove off before turning around and looking at the campus of his high school as all the students were filing in. Some from the buses, some drove themselves, and others walked or rode a bike.

'And isn't that a kicker, being back in high school.' Andrew sighed before adjusting his backpack and following the map to his first class of English.

Weaving his way through the growing crowds, Andrew soon arrived at the classroom. Looking inside, he saw there were already several students sitting down. Andrew followed suit and found himself a seat on the left side of the room, next to a window.

He spent the time waiting for class to start by looking out the windows at the track field he could see, pondering over his new circumstances.

It was a really unexpected set of circumstances that led to him finding himself here. He found himself pondering the question of why this happened to him. Why did he get a second chance in a totally different body? And now that he seemed to be stuck here with no way back home, what was he going to make of his life?

He was at the beginning of his High School career, so he had an open playing field. Studying well and getting good grades, he was sure to get into a decent college.

The teacher arrived before Andrew had made any firm decisions on what he was going to do with his new life beyond take advantage of his opportunity to get good grades.

While the teacher took roll call, he began thinking of how he was going to go about his studies. The better his grades were and the more he learned, the more opportunities and choices he would have when deciding his new life's career.

The first day of class for the incoming freshmen was mostly introduction, going over the syllabus, and passing out books. Andrew did his best to pay attention, remember his classmate's names, and generally do his best to enjoy his new high school life.

The bell eventually rang, causing a general stir of students packing up their bags and making their way to their next class.

Andrew followed the crowd out, frowning when he saw that he was much shorter than his classmates. He was at least half a head shorter than everyone.

'Damn. I'm a year younger and apparently a late bloomer.' Andrew gloomily thought as he did his best not to get run over by the herd of rambunctious teenagers. He couldn't see anything past the shoulders and heads around him.

For someone who was over six foot in his previous life to suddenly be five foot nothing once more was a trial. Andrew worked hard to convince himself that he was actually five feet tall. Wearing shoes counted, right?

At least his new father was tall, which gave Andrew some hope for future growth.

After swimming through the sea of teenage drama and ignoring most of it, Andrew arrived at his math class. Apparently Andrew had taken Algebra 1 in 7th grade, Geometry in 8th, and now was taking Algebra 2 / Trigonometry.

Andrew arrived too late to find a nice seat, so he took one in the front middle of the class. He barely paid attention to his teacher, Miss Summers, calling roll until one name popped out at him.

"Peter Parker." Miss Summers called out.

"Here."

In his amusement, Andrew's head slowly turned to look at the young man whose name was Peter Parker, incredulous at first that anyone would be so cruel to their kid to name them after Spiderman.

'Not that it's a bad name at all. And Spiderman is an admirable hero. One of my favorite in the Marvel universe, in fact. But this kid is no doubt going to be mocked by his peers for having the name of a comic book superhero, cause kids can be so cruel to each other for the dumbest reasons.' Andrew thought.

Seeing the kid who was named Peter Parker, Andrew chuckled inside a bit. 'That poor bloke. His parents even dressed him to look like Peter before he became Spiderman. The glasses, the overly nerdy clothes. Are they asking for their kid to be bullied?'

After a moment Andrew turned his attention back to the teacher and listened for his name. He called out to affirm his presence when Miss Summers reached his name.

Once she was finished with the role, Miss Summers passed out their syllabus and books, before pulling out a large stack of papers.

"Okay. And now we'll have a little quiz to see just how much you all remember from your previous math classes!" Miss Summers cheerfully announced.

Carl smirked a bit inside when he saw Miss Summers' smile grow a little when she heard the students groan in protest.

'Apparently our math teacher has a bit of a sadistic side to her.' Andrew postulated when he saw her pleasure grow the more the students grumbled. 'Note to self, don't get on her bad side. I'm sure her punishments will be annoying as hell, just to entertain herself at her student's expense.'

Thankfully Andrew was pretty decent at math in his previous life. It had been a while since he had taken these math classes, but as he read over the test, many of his memories and half forgotten formulas became clearer in his mind, allowing him to answer most of the problems correctly.

Andrew sighed when the bell rang. He knew he hadn't gotten all the answers right. He stacked his paper on top of everyone else's when he filed out the door. He would have to work hard at some reviewing to refresh his memories.

Looking around, Andrew had the idea of talking with the kid named Peter Parker. Seeing the kid with his head down and trying to look like he was a turtle avoiding danger, Andrew changed his mind. He already looked like he had been bullied into timidity, so Andrew nixed his idea to gently tease the guy to try to start up a friendship.

Andrew didn't think he would appreciate the gentle teasing and would think that Andrew was one of those who mocked him. He would have to wait for a better time to see if he could make friends with the kid. Shrugging his shoulders, he made his way to his locker to put away his books before making his way to his next class.

* * *

The rest of Andrew's day went by pretty normally. First days weren't usually intense, mostly consisting of introductions and reviews.

It wasn't until his last class of the day, history, that Andrew felt like his grasp on things was a lot more tenuous than he thought it was.

Their teacher, Mr. Underwood, began like normal. He passed out books and the syllabus. It was what he talked about after that that threw Andrew for a complete loop.

"While this class is mostly concerned with History, ie the past, the thing to keep in mind is that our current events will be tomorrow's history." Mr. Underwood stated as he paced in front of the class, making eye contact with the students.

"So every Monday we will spend some time on current events. We'll take turns throughout the year so that everyone gets a chance to present a report on what has been happening in the world of today. We'll discuss what is happening and what some of the ramifications of those events could be on our society and history in general."

"If you can find and present similar events from history to your article's subject, I'll give bonus points to your grade. This will be included in your participation grade, so don't slack off it."

Mr. Underwood then strode up to the easel that had been covered since the beginning of class.

"Since today is the first Monday, and none of you have had a chance to prepare, I'll go first to give an example. This is an older article that I made four years ago when Captain America was first thawed out."

Andrew's jaw dropped at the sight of the news articles blown up and highlighted. At first he was in denial, thinking that Mr. Underwood was a fan of the Marvel movies and wanted to play a joke on the students.

But as he watched everyone's reactions and serious attitude, Andrew soon came to the realization that they weren't joking. Both the teacher and students were too enthusiastic and serious about the article and subject matter.

Doubt began creeping into Andrew's mind. Was this real? Was he actually in the Marvel Universe?

'Midtown High School!' Andrew froze in realization. 'Peter Parker's high school. The actual, real, Spiderman's high school. And there is a Peter Parker, who isn't Spiderman yet.'

Andrew finally calmed down and came back to himself. He had been completely ignoring the class discussion in favor of freaking out. He came back to himself when he heard Mr. Underwood finishing up a summary of Captain America's life up to this point, enthusiastically talking about how amazing it was to have such an American hero back among them, and how much he has done for them, especially in the Battle for New York that happened three years ago.

The bell eventually rang, releasing the students for the day. Andrew packed up his books, his mind in a fog. He mechanically made his way to the buses, saw his bus number, and climbed on.

It was only when he got off the bus that he finally started being coherent to himself, no longer freaking out about the realization that he _was in the freaking Marvel Universe!_

He entered his new home of less than a day, and made his way up to his room. He booted up the computer in his gaming corner. Staring at the login screen, Andrew scowled at the fact that he didn't know the password.

"Dammit. Curse you for not giving me the memories of the host body!" Andrew muttered at whatever force allowed him to inhabit the body with no clue about his new life.

Andrew spent the next 15 minutes digging through the original Andrew's desk before finding a little pocket notebook full of passwords.

"Saved! At least now I don't have to reinstall the operating system and lose all that Andrew had on his hard drive." Andrew muttered as he logged in. It wasn't like he was a computer hacker that could figure out the login information, so he would have been screwed if the passwords weren't written down.

After logging in, Andrew started searching online for any information related to certain superheroes and what had been happening lately in the world.

It was currently the year 2015. Andrew was 13 and a year younger than all his classmates, which made Peter Parker 14 right now. If he remembered rightly, then Peter was 15 when he got bitten by the spider and made into Spiderman.

Andrew looked over the articles he could find about Iron Man. He had to troll through a lot of articles, since there were so many online. But after some time he learned the basics. This world seemed to follow the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

In 2008 Tony Stark was kidnapped while in the Middle East. After escaping / being saved, he made his Iron Man suit and cleaned up a lot of the terrorists who had been using his weapons. He shifted Stark Industries away from building weapons, which caused a huge drop in stock prices for a time. But he got into energy and building technology to help save lives and make society better.

In the same year there were articles of a giant green humanoid monster that would rage around. The army had no success subduing it. When their forces were expended, the Hulk would just wander off and disappear for a time. Occasionally over the years around the world there would be a reappearance of the big green Hulk for a short time before he would wander off again.

In 2010 when Andrew was only 8 Tony Stark's expo was attacked by a horde of Iron Man knockoff drones, but he came out of that disaster with the release of several more advances in energy which reversed the temporary drop in stock that resulted from the attack. The rise in his stock prices was actually a lot higher than it was previously, since everyone seemed to be recognizing that Tony Stark was extremely hard to put down. And his new innovations were amazingly profitable.

Then, in 2011 Captain America was found and brought back from being frozen in the Arctic. There was a lot of excitement in the articles at his successful revival.

In the same year there were articles of some attacks on a town in New Mexico. If Andrew remembered rightly, that should be Thor coming to Midgard after having his powers suppressed.

Then in 2012 there was the Battle for New York where a portal opened up in the sky above the city and an alien army attacked. The Avengers closed the portal after fighting the invaders.

Two years ago in 2013 Tony Stark's house was attacked with missiles. A short time later the U.S. President was attacked, but saved by Iron Man, who had been missing since his house was attacked but had shown up once more.

During that time there was also an attack on London by strange forces. The reports weren't specific about what. Andrew saw a lot of conflicting information on the internet about who was attacking. The only solid news online was that Thor of the Avengers had stopped the attack.

Andrew then found news about the previous year's craziness. Captain America and the Black Widow released the news that Hydra, the Nazi organization, wasn't as dead as it was assumed. The two posted the S.H.I.E.L.D. database on the internet to expose the Nazi organization. Then there was a battle where a couple of those airships were crashed and destroyed.

Andrew sat back in his chair and blew out an explosive breath of air. He really didn't know what to say about that whole situation. He didn't know the ins and outs of the now real life situation. But he was wondering why Rogers and Romanov would post S.H.I.E.L.D.s database online. Chances are there were many enemies benefitting from such a move more than it hurt Hydra.

Maybe it was the only chance they had at the time to fight back and stop Hydra's plans?

Andrew shrugged off the questions. There were always armchair generals that would criticize the soldiers who actually participated in the battle. He had no idea what the situation was at the time, so he decided to hold off on judging them harshly.

Andrew's mind then circled around to the fact that he had been avoiding thinking about for some time.

He was in the Marvel Universe.

Sometime later, Andrew finally stopped jumping around and squee-ing like an overly excited fan boy. Sitting back down in his chair, Andrew looked at the timeline he had compiled from the online news.

The big superhero events seemed to be increasing in frequency and seriousness. The world Andrew now lived in seemed to be devolving into chaos and war. Every year crazy battles and conflicts were happening, and they were getting bigger.

And here he was, an ordinary 13 year old kid in a superhero universe.

No special powers, no ability to protect himself from any of the coming threats.

*cough* Thanos *cough*.

He wasn't a genius that could build himself a mobile battlesuit. He didn't have mystical powers, or mutant powers.

"Well, there's an idea. I could always go find the Sorcerer Supreme and try to become an apprentice. There is of course no guarantee that he would actually train me, but I could try it." Andrew thought it probably wouldn't work. What could he possibly offer Dr. Strange to get training?

"He would probably just return me back to my parents with a story of how I was getting into trouble with the wrong crowd, ensuring I got grounded." Andrew sighed in regret at not being able to learn magic any time soon. At least not until he was an adult and could make his own decisions.

But by then the whole war with Thanos would have already happened. Who knew if things would actually play out like in the movies? Who knew if he would survive the Snap? Or if Tony could even reverse it after it happened.

"The best bet I have to gain some powers to protect myself in any relevant time is to get bit by that radioactive spider with Peter within the next year." Andrew sat back in his chair. "I mean, most of the rest of the paths to power are jealously guarded by organizations like Shield or Hydra. Or the formula is lost like Captain America's serum. Or it would twist me into some kind of monster like what happened to Blonsky with the Hulk's blood. So the best bet I have is to get some spider powers."

Andrew paused for a moment as stark reality bit him in the ass.

"Yeah. Like a 13 year old no power kid with no money is going to be able to do _anything_ to plot and plan a path to power." Andrew snorted to himself at the thought. He was less than a 98 pound weakling at the moment. How could he even get any plans out of the being on paper stage?

No, the only possibility he had that was in his reach was that spider.

Andrew made up his mind.

When his class went on that trip to Oscorp, he would be right next to Peter and would ensure he too was bitten. He didn't want to steal Peter's opportunity to get those powers. He wasn't a dick.

But if he could get those powers too, then he would jump at the chance.

* * *

Over the next year Andrew spent his time either studying, exercising, or hanging out with Peter, becoming his friend. Which led to him meeting Ned, Peter's best friend.

Andrew's first impression of Peter being a bullied nerd wasn't actually completely accurate. While he wasn't given much respect from the Jock and Social clique, it wasn't to the point of actual bullying, really.

At most there were some disparaging remarks thrown Peter's way from Flash's group. Other than that, they left him alone, and Peter stayed away from them for the most part. The various social groups did their own thing, and only interacted at school a bit.

Andrew had been spending plenty of time working out, running and lifting weights, in anticipation of getting his base body enhanced. The idea was that the spider powers were a multiplication of his base powers. If he started out with a base power of 5, and say the spider powers would multiply that by 10, then he would have a power of 50. But if he started out with a 10, then with the spider powers he would end up with a power of 100. It could double his power if he had a more fit body.

Of course the whole thing was conjecture and blind guessing. Andrew had no hard data or scientific measures. But doing exercise and being fit wasn't a bad thing to be. At the very least he would be healthy, even if nothing came of his efforts to get some spider powers.

Finally the day of the tour came near the end of the school year. Andrew was having a hard time of sitting still on the bus, he was so nervous and excited about the upcoming event.

"Dude, you got to pee or something?" Ned laughed when he saw how jittery Andrew was.

"Nah, I'm just excited about seeing the sweet tech." Andrew tried to calm down and act nonchalant. It didn't work very well if Ned's mocking face was anything to go by.

"I'm excited too." Peter commented absent mindedly as he watched the hot girl Liz chatting with her friends further down the bus.

Andrew and Ned snickered at Peter, but also watched the hot girls for a few moments.

"Ahem. Yeah, it's gonna be a good tour." Andrew said once the girls sat back down.

"Yup."

"Yeah."

The awkwardness was soon dispelled as the three friends started chatting about random things. The bus finally came to a stop in front of the Oscorp building and everyone piled out.

From his place in the middle of the group, Andrew looked up at the looming building. He couldn't express to himself what he was feeling at the moment, so he just stopped thinking and stuffed all the feelings down inside for the time being.

The class followed their teachers inside and gathered in the reception area of the Oscorp building. Role was called and guest passes were handed out. Andrew double checked that he had the small vial that he planned to put the spider into once he was bit safe in his pocket.

Andrew followed along with the tour, joking in low voices with his two buddies. Eventually they arrived at the room with all the samples. There were more than just the spiders that made Peter into Spiderman. The group was working with many different interesting creatures from nature. Scorpions, lizards, ants, bees, and many others.

Andrew kept an eye on Peter, watching out for the spider.

Eventually he saw the thing crawling on Peter's sleeve. It reached Peter's hand and bit him.

"Ouch!" Peter exclaimed, reaching out to slap the spider.

Before Peter could smash it, Andrew's hand was already there, grabbing the spider. He put the thing on his own wrist, ignoring Peter's antics of clutching his painful wrist and jumping around. The spider on Andrew's wrist bit him too. It was like the spider was going on a biting frenzy, just biting everything around it.

Andrew tried to move the thing to put it into the small container he had prepared to capture it, but he failed as the spider wriggled out of his grip and leaped away, disappearing among the nearby shelving.

It was probably for the best, just in case the Oscorp people did a search of him. If he had one of their samples on his body, he didn't want to guess what the legal consequences would be.

With his burning wrist as testament that he succeeded in his goal at least, Andrew was pleased. Even though he didn't catch the spider, the important thing was that he got bit and would gain some awesome powers.

The cold sweats and nausea that soon started were symptoms that he had expected, since fundamentally changing someone's DNA was bound to be a painful process. Andrew followed along with Peter in getting early release from the tour, explaining that they must have eaten something bad.

Andrew managed to get home, somehow navigating the public transport system while fighting the onset of symptoms.

He crashed in his bed at home and surrendered to unconsciousness.

Unknown to him, his heart beat was getting slower and slower, until it finally stopped and didn't beat again.

* * *

Andrew started feeling a floating feeling. Like he was unbound from something. He opened his eyes and saw himself floating in his bedroom of the past year.

His body was lying on the bed, completely still. Looking closer, he saw that his body wasn't breathing!

"What the hell!" Andrew tried to touch his body with the idea of doing some CPR. But his hands passed through his body. He was insubstantial.

"Did I die?! What the hell!" Andrew yelled in frustration.

"Yes. You are dead." A bone dry voice sounded from behind Andrew.

Andrew whirled around, seeing a skeletally thin man in a three piece suit standing there, staring at him.

"Who are you?" Andrew asked warily.

"I am an Emissary of the Personification of Death. I'm here to collect you and pass you on to your destination, Carl. I don't know how you arrived here from your previous life, but your time here in this world is over."

"Just like that? I mean, I didn't even get to do much of anything." Carl, who had been getting used to being Andrew over the past year, complained. "I mean, what shitty luck to have died just when I was gonna get some spider powers."

"That wasn't bad luck, I'm afraid." The thin man smirked at Carl. "Did you really think it was that easy to acquire the destiny of a hero? To gain the powers of the Spider Totem? Peter Parker only survived the ordeal because of the changes his scientist father made to him through experimenting on him as a child. Your body, I'm afraid, was completely unsuited to the power. You never had the chance."

"Really?" Carl slumped down, depressed. All that planning, all that waiting for the right moment, wasted. Seeing the smirk on the man, and his nod of affirmation, Carl sighed out his depression.

He had gambled and lost on the chance that it really was that easy to become someone with powers in the Marvel universe.

After a brief moment of depression, Carl straightening back up, throwing it all behind him. Easy come, easy go. Keep telling himself that and he may actually start believing it.

"Well, at least the last year was pretty fun, hanging out with Peter and Ned. I can't say it was a complete waste of time, since they were pretty okay dudes. And I got to meet Peter before he became _the_ Spiderman. Okay, so where are you taking me now Emissary? What's my destination?"

"That's it? No railing against the fates? No cursing me or demanding another chance?" The unhealthily skinny man asked in disbelief at Carl's easy acceptance.

"Well, I figured I already had my second chance after falling to my death in the first place." Carl shrugged. "I already made my peace with having died once before. Doing it again wasn't so hard, really."

"With where I landed in this life, having gone to the same school and year as Peter Parker, I figured it was a lock in that I would be able to get some spider powers. So, I went for broke to get the coolest powers I easily could get without becoming some kind of mad scientist or thief or something."

"I gambled and lost. What more can I say? You don't owe me anything as far as I know, so demanding something for nothing from you would be a bit presumptuous on my part. You say you're here to take me to my destination. So." Carl shrugged. "Let's go then."

The man started to chuckle, sounding like the rattle of bones. At first it was a faint sound. Then his chuckles started getting louder, until he was guffawing, his head thrown back in amusement. The man was clutching his stomach as he laughed uproariously.

Carl was understandably confused.

Eventually the man settled down. He wiped the tears of mirth out of his eyes.

"Oh, mortal. That is just priceless. Thank you for that." The man finally said.

"Uh…sure. If you don't mind my asking, what was the joke?" Carl asked in some bafflement.

"I'm afraid it would take far too long to explain." The man said with another little chuckle. "Eons, in fact, to get the whole story. And I'm afraid you don't have that much time."

And before Carl could ask any more questions, the man who was looking more and more like a skeleton in a suit, raised his right hand and snapped his fingers.

Carl's world went black as he lost consciousness.

* * *

Carl gasped deeply as he sat up abruptly. A moment later, he was struck by a coughing fit. Trying to breathe deeply and coughing at the same time caused some painful issues for a moment, before Carl had gotten control of his lungs.

Looking around, he saw that he was sitting on his bed that he had gotten used to when he was living as Andrew over the past year.

Was meeting that Emissary of the Personification of Death just a dream?

Carl looked down at his Andrew hands, and realized that it was most definitely not a dream. His fingernails were blue and his whole body felt extremely cold. He realized that his body had been dead while he was floating around. It had cooled down a lot while it lay on his bed.

Looking down further, he realized that he had been incontinent in death.

"Shit." Andrew muttered quietly so no one would overhear his foul language.

He hastily grabbed a change of clothes, dashed to the bathroom, kicked off his shoes, and jumped in the shower fully clothed. He needed to do a pre-wash of his clothes before he tossed them in the washer.

While he was cleaning off his body and warming up, he pondered over the brief encounter.

_"Did you really think it was that easy to acquire the destiny of a hero?"_

That question the Emissary asked was echoing in his mind. What was the deeper meaning behind that question?

Andrew began analyzing the entire conversation, trying to parse any hidden truths.

He hadn't been lying to the Emissary at all when he said he had accepted his death. The moment he recognized he was dead, he had immediately recognized that he had no power to do anything about his situation. And so, he firmly cast aside the life he had been living for the past year to prepare himself for whatever came next.

He wanted to land on his feet in his next destination. He was actually looking forward to it, intensely curious to find out what came next. If he could land in the Marvel universe, where could he land next? Or what afterlife was there for him?

But now that he was back in his body, he felt a little lacking in purpose. His burning desire of the past year to grab some powers had cooled down after his brush with death. He wouldn't turn them down by any means, but he didn't think he would gamble his life on them again. He still really wanted to live.

Andrew had no idea why he was allowed to go back into his body. Was it some Zen thing? Only through learning to let go did he have true control, or some such nonsense?

But why did the Emissary laugh so hard?

_"Eons, in fact, to get the whole story."_

Did he just get fooled? Just because he didn't have the whole story, wouldn't the basics of the joke have been tellable in just a few moments.

"Well, explaining a joke makes it not as funny, so I guess he wanted to preserve whatever humor he got out of it." Andrew couldn't really blame the Emissary. For a joke that takes so long to get to the punch line, he wouldn't want to cheapen it either.

After showering and rinsing out his clothes, he brought his laundry down to the washer in the basement. It was only then that Andrew finally noticed the changes to his body.

He had been so distracted by being alive again and having shit himself in death, that he hadn't recognized his physical change for what they were.

He felt so light on his feet as he walked.

The laundry basket felt like it weighed nothing.

His balance felt beyond compare as he ran down the stairs.

After Andrew started his laundry, he went to the corner that had the weights he had been lifting over the past year to get fit in preparation for having spider powers.

He began with the weight that he had been using to do low reps and heavy weight on the bench press. He picked up the weight and did a few curls with it. It felt feather light in his hands.

Andrew began to smirk. He added more and more weight and continued to do curls with weight that he wouldn't have been able to bench previously. And it never felt any heavier.

He had super powers!

Andrew walked to the wall and placed his hands against it above his head. He intensely thought about sticking to it, then tried pulling his hands away from the wall. Instead he pulled himself up the wall.

He had spider super powers!

_"Did you really think it was that easy to acquire the destiny of a hero?"_

Suddenly the question the Emissary had asked echoed in Andrew's mind once more. He thought of letting go of the wall and dropped to the floor. The mention of a hero's destiny caught his attention this time.

"A hero's destiny is connected to their powers?" Andrew muttered while rubbing his chin in thought. "So what is connected with Spiderman's powers and destiny?"

"There are so many things that change about the Peter Parker Spiderman story, but the one basic that always remains the same is that he loses his uncle; and that loss sends him on the path of living 'With Great Power, Comes Great Responsibility' in order to fulfill his role as a superhero."

Andrew felt a shiver run down his spine at a particular thought.

"So, if I don't start fulfilling that destiny, will something happen to my family that I could have prevented that would push me down the path of a hero?"

Andrew began pacing back and forth as he furiously thought about that particularly chilling thought. The idea was frankly terrifying that some cosmic force would stare at him, waiting for his decision and actions, and if he was found wanting, then _behavioral corrections_ would be made.

"Do I even want to take that chance? Do I want to play chicken with something that is so far above me?"

Andrew thought about the past year with his new family. They were good people. They cared for their son. They worked hard to live a decent and upright life.

Andrew stopped pacing suddenly. His shoulders firmed up. His face set in determination.

A moment later, Andrew's whole posture changed. His shoulders slumped, and his back bent. He carried the air of defeat and depression.

"I don't even know how to sew!" He plaintively shouted as he raised his fists to the sky. "How the hell am I supposed to make a crime fighting costume?!"


	15. The Carl Who Lived

Carl blinked his eyes open. He couldn't see anything to tell him just where he was. His memory was feeling very sketchy at the moment, not giving him any clues. He tried to move, and found that he was wrapped up tight in some cloth.

There was a huge amount of heat on one side of him from what felt like a huge body. He couldn't hear anything beyond the loud rushing of wind and the rumbling of a motorcycle engine.

Suddenly, his mind clicked together and he remembered how he had died in a Walmart of all places. Just a moment later, images began flowing through his mind, as if he was watching a first person movie, or remembering events in his own life. The attached feelings and emotions were muted though, as if he was experiencing them second hand.

At first everything was blurry, and he couldn't see anything, only feel some sensations. Carl was embarrassed to be experiencing what it was like to crap his pants and have his tush wiped clean.

As fantastical as it was, Carl admitted to himself what was happening. Memories of his death, having a small and uncoordinated body, and having memories running through his mind. All the signs indicated he was in a new body in a new life.

'Maybe not quite so new.' Carl thought as he watched plenty of time pass through the movie in his mind.

He saw his parents in this life for the first time. His beautiful redheaded mother always had a kind and loving smile for him. His goofy father with messy black hair always had a smile of pride for him, or a loving kiss for his wife.

Carl startled hard when he heard them name him Harry and called each other Lily and James.

'Well, shit.' Carl thought. 'I'm Harry Fuckin Potter!' Even though he was enjoying the memories of his interactions with his mother and father, he felt a sense of sadness and melancholy flooding him.

Judging by the sound of the engine, the wind, and feeling like an enormous body was holding him, this could only be Halloween Night of 1981. Which meant that Lily and James were already dead. And with him here, it also probably meant that poor little Harry Potter didn't survive the killing curse in this universe.

The speed of the memories passing through his mind were quite subjective. If felt like months were passing in his mind, but he was still flying with Hagrid on the motorcycle. So obviously he was experiencing them much faster than real time.

Carl watched and experienced the early life of Harry that was full of happiness. He could see the signs of Lily and James keeping their worry over the war and the prophecy in the back of their mind when they were around Harry. They didn't want to affect the growth of their child.

As Carl watched the interactions between James and Lily, he was touched by seeing how good they were together.

He really only had speculation and scattered ideas from reading the original books in the past, so he really had no idea what it was that eventually brought the two together. But he could see how good they were together. Even when they were having differences of opinions they respected each other and tried hard to work their problems out.

'At the very least, I can rule potions out.' Carl thought over some of the nastier fanfictions he had read that talked about James using love potions on Lily. 'There's no way that someone befuddled by love potions would act that way. They are just two young people in love, trying to get through the hard times together.'

Carl also watched his early memories of the other Marauders, especially at his- Harry's birthday party.

Sirius acted in the way that he expected him to, from his memories of the books. He was a clever goof that liked to play around.

Remus was much calmer, obviously through much effort from having to deal with Sirius.

James got a bit rambunctious with his buds there, but he would calm down when he saw Lily's significant looks.

Peter, on the other hand, didn't seem like a rat at all at that time.

'Maybe it was living for over a decade as a pet rat that influenced his appearance by the time of Harry's third year?' All Carl had was speculation.

While Peter wasn't acting like a rat or suspicious, he was a very self effacing man. Even going so far as to crack jokes at his own expense for a laugh. Carl got the sense that many of the jokes that all four men were cracking had been endlessly repeated over their school years. They felt very comfortable together.

Carl felt a sense of sadness at seeing the scene of all four Marauders together. If there had never been a Voldemort, if he hadn't been engaged in a war to grab up the reins of power for himself. If things had been different, the four men's fellowship would never have been broken. They would have just been four school friends trying to get on in the world, build a family, and live their life.

But despite a lingering sense of sadness about the tragedy of their lives, Carl couldn't shake off the feelings of 1 year old Harry Potter that was having the time of his life. All his favorite uncles were there. And he had a broom that let him chase their cat!

Feeling Harry Potter's feelings on that broom, Carl could see how the boy could love flying so much. It felt great!

Carl felt them descending when his memories were still about a month away from that fateful Halloween.

They came to a stop, and Carl heard the motorcycle engine shut off.

"Professor Dumbledore, sir. Professor McGonagall." Carl heard the rumbling deep voice of Hagrid coming from next to him. He kept his eyes closed and pretended to be asleep.

"No problems, I trust, Hagrid?" The aged voice of Dumbledore queried.

"No, sir. Little tyke slept the whole trip. There you go, try not to wake him."

Carl felt a large pair of hand handing him over to a more normal adult sized pair of arms that cuddled him. It felt really weird to be so small again, after being an adult for so long.

He felt his body being shifted a bit, and cracked his eyes open to see a wand waving over him. The next second, Carl's connection to his body sense faded away.

He was still experiencing the memories of Harry Potter, so he could only assume that Dumbledore had made sure that he would sleep until he was picked up by the Dursleys in the morning.

With no bodily senses or signals distracting him, the memories of Harry Potter that he was viewing became several times more intense. He felt as if he was living them, instead of just watching them.

'Damn.' Carl thought as he was experiencing everything that little Harry had, from changing diapers to running around and getting carpet burns from skidding on the rugs. 'I get to live it just in time for the really bad event.'

Halloween arrived.

Carl, stuck in the memory that he knew was going to be bad, was struggling under his own dread that sharply contrasted with Harry's mood of fun and enjoyment. He wasn't sure how to handle the conflicting emotions.

And finally came the time in the evening that Voldemort attacked. The loud bang and crash from the front door told Carl that Voldemort was in the house. Carl was surprised that through Harry's senses, he could feel the huge amount of magic that was wildly crashing around the in the surroundings.

'It makes sense that a large amount of magic was being thrown around. It's not like the Potters would have relied on only the Fidelius. Voldemort probably tore down their defensive wards in a spectacular fashion to instill fear and hopelessness in them.'

"It's him!" James stated. Harry was snatched up by Lily, so Carl didn't get a good view of what was happening in the room. But he felt the three way hug. "Take Harry and run. I'll hold him off."

Carl wished he wasn't stuck in the memory. He was feeling the fear that Harry felt at his parent's unusual behavior. He could hear the despair and knowledge that he was going to die in James' voice. But he also heard the determination to give his family time to escape.

Carl felt little Harry being carried to through the room to the kitchen. He was held so his face was over her shoulder. Harry was looking back where they left his father. Carl could hear the sound of a doorknob rattling.

A moment later, the sounds of combat and yelling came from the entryway of their house.

From the corner of Harry's eye, Carl saw Lily trying to cast spells on the door and windows, but nothing was working to open them up. Voldemort must have done some careful preparation to keep the Potters from escaping. After all, with them having escaped him three times already, he knew how slippery they could be.

Lily then carried Harry upstairs. Carl watched as she failed to open any of the windows on the second floor. If the situation weren't so tragic and dire, Carl would have laughed at the curse words that came out of Lily's mouth.

The sounds of combat downstairs ended. Silence fell.

Through Harry's eyes, Carl saw the tears falling from Lily's face.

Impatiently dashing her tears away, Lily placed Harry in his crib in the room they were in. She couldn't open any of the windows to make her escape. James was dead. And they were trapped up here, with that monster coming.

Carl watched as Lily took up a knife and slashed her hand, pouring blood in a certain spot of the room. The bare walls of the room were lit up by red glowing runes that were scrawled all over them. Even the ceiling and floor had the magical glowing runes scrawled all over. A moment later the runes faded back to invisibility.

Lily used her wand to close her wound and then turned to face the closed door.

Carl could then hear the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. The sound echoed in his ears.

'It seems like Voldemort has a sense of the dramatic and how to instill fear in his victims. He had to have cast a spell to cause the sound of footsteps. Has he been watching muggle horror movies?'

The footsteps paused outside the door for a moment. Carl could see Lily getting more and more tense.

The door blasted open, revealing the Dark Lord.

Lily started casting a spell, but Voldemort wordlessly ripped her wand out of her hands. Carl thought that she had been disarmed so easily because the amount of magic power she had sunk into the runes left her tired and unable to defend herself properly. At least the way she was leaning weakly against Harry's crib led Carl to this conclusion.

"Stand aside, girl." Voldemort's tenor voice intoned from the doorway.

Carl could only see Lily's back from where Harry was standing in the crib.

"No, please. Take me and leave Harry." Lily's voice pleaded.

Carl could hear a hidden note to her voice. As if she wasn't simply pleading for mercy from the notoriously unmerciful Dark Lord. It sounded to Carl like she was invoking a clause that was hidden in the small print of a contract.

"Just stand aside and you can live, foolish girl." Voldemort impatiently said.

"Don't hurt Harry. Please, take me and leave him alone."

Carl could see Lily's hands were clenched tightly.

"I've promised one of my followers that you would be spared. But if you defy me once more, you will die. Now, for the last time, move aside." Voldemort sounded angrily offended, as if having someone who didn't immediately jump to do his will were an affront to his dignity.

"No, please spare Harry, and take me instead." Lily said for the third time.

"Very well, you made your choice." Voldemort stated coldly, cruelly. "Avada Kedavra!"

Carl saw a flash of green, which seemed to wash over Lily's form. Then Harry's mother fell limply to the ground. Harry's eyes followed the falling form to the floor. Carl saw the lifeless eyes of Lily. But her face had a strange sense of peace, instead of fear. As if she had accomplished her goal at the cost of her life, and found it worthwhile.

Harry's eyes then tracked up to look at Voldemort when he heard the mocking laugh from the Dark Lord.

Carl got his first look at the Dark Lord Voldemort, born as one Tom Marvolo Riddle. He still had hair at this point. Voldemort looked like a handsome but cruel man in his early 30s. Only the glowing red magical energy flowing from his eyes showed that he was anything other than a regular man.

"So, this is one of the possible Prophecy Children. I'm not impressed." Voldemort sneered at Harry. He raised his wand, pointing it directly between Harry's eyes. Carl's gaze focused on the tip, which was already glowing green. "Avada Kedavra!"

The memories then grew chaotic. Carl vaguely saw the green light of the curse hit him before rebounding and striking Voldemort, before his vision grew blurry. Carl felt the pain in every part of his body. It felt like it was tearing him apart!

Then darkness took him.

* * *

"Vernon!"

The next thing Carl knew, he heard a woman's strident voice waking him up. He opened his eyes and tried looking around. The early morning sun shone down on them, illuminating the world. But Carl's vision was still horribly blurry. He could barely see the two faces of who he could only assume were Vernon and Petunia Dursley staring down at him.

"What is that doing here?" Carl heard Vernon say.

'Yeah, thanks for that consideration.' Carl sarcastically thought.

"It looks like Lily's boy. It has her eyes anyway. There's a letter." Petunia said.

Carl was wondering just how long were they going to be staring at him, leaving him lying on their front porch. He didn't feel cold, so presumably Dumbledore had cast some spells to ensure he wouldn't die of exposure.

Unless it was his new body's magic that kept him warm?

"Vernon. The neighbors are watching." Petunia's stressed voice then said.

"Fine." Vernon ground out. "We'll take him in for now."

Carl felt a pair of hands picking him up and brining him in. He belatedly wondered if he should have struggled out of his blankets and got up on his own, instead of stupidly staring back at the Dursleys.

Inwardly shrugging at his late impulse, Carl tried to look around the house he found himself in as he was being carried into the living room. He was set down on the floor in the corner, which caused him to snort at their strange behavior.

Shrugging once more at the absolutely strange situation he found himself in, Carl struggled out of the blanket that was wrapping him up and sat up, looking around curiously. He heard the sound of the letter opening, and paper rustling.

Carl thought it telling that his vision was so bad now, when his memories of Harry's year of life had him with perfect vision.

'Harry's vision - well, my vision now - must have been ruined either by the Avada to the face, or the soul leach that grabbed on to my head.'

Carl reached up and felt his forehead. Sure enough, there was a ropy, bumpy scar in the middle of his forehead. It felt quite tender too, like it wasn't fully healed.

'So, I'm a Horcrux now?' Carl thought. 'And it's ruined my vision, dammit.'

Carl's attention was brought once more to Vernon and Petunia as they were arguing about whether or not to keep him. From what he could gather, the note left by Dumbledore had stated that the protections on their house that kept them safe from the magicals would last as long as Harry was a resident.

"You don't understand what all those freaks can do Vernon!" Petunia frantically argued. "Even shortly after Lily's first year, that horrid boy Snape had already learned some nasty spells that were so painful!"

"He cast them on you?" Vernon sounded furious on behalf of Petunia. "That bastard, if I ever see him, I'll-"

"No! It's better if we never see them ever!" Petunia desperately interrupted. "If these protections can keep those freaks away from us, and protect our Dudders, it's worth it to have to give room and board to Lily's boy. Even if he turns out a freak like them, at least we'll only have to deal with one freak that doesn't know how to use his magic to hurt us. It's better than some of those adult freaks coming here and torturing and killing us."

"Are you sure, Pet? I don't see why they would even bother with us normal folks. I can just drop him off at child services on my way to work, and we won't ever have to put up with them." Vernon tried to persuade Petunia to get rid of Carl in Harry Potter's body.

"It wouldn't work, Vernon. That Snape freak was Lily's friend, and from what I gathered from her letters before we stopped talking, he chose that Dark Freak's side. He knows about me and might come looking, or send their freak friends here to look for Lily's boy. If we don't have those protections when they come looking, I shudder what might happen to us and to Dudley." Petunia's voice just kept getting more frantic and desperate as she tried to convince Vernon to keep Harry Potter.

"Fine. You're right, Pet. But I won't put up with any of his freakishness. Especially if he tries to use it on our boy." Vernon announced.

Carl heard and vaguely saw the shape of Vernon stand up from the couch. Vernon approached Carl and bent down to pick him up. Carl felt the man's two hands under his armpits, holding him at arm's length.

"Runty little thing, isn't he? Not like our Dudders."

Carl kept an inquisitive look on his face, not indicating he understood what Vernon said. It was hard for Carl not to laugh at what Vernon said. He couldn't blame any parent for being proud of their boy, but the blindness and pride in Dudley that the Dursleys evidenced in the book was just amusing.

"Well, I'll put him in the spare room for now." Vernon said as he carried Carl upstairs.

A short time later, Carl found himself sitting on the floor a mostly empty room that had some boxes stacked in the corner. Vernon had firmly shut the door behind him as he went back downstairs.

Carl was actually glad the man had left him alone, since it gave him a chance to think about his situation.

The first thing that Carl pondered was what Petunia had said about Snape. It sounded an awful lot like Snape had taken to tormenting Petunia when Lily wasn't around. If that was really the case, then it explained a lot of Petunia's estrangement from Lily.

And Carl couldn't really blame Petunia at all, when he thought about it. He sighed at the sheer horrible drama of it all though.

While Carl couldn't be sure that he was 100% right in his conjectures, based on what he knew from the canon books he could make a guess.

Chances were that all through their first year Lily had to deal with the fighting between James Potter's group of four and Severus Snape. She would have been conditioned and trained to automatically take Snape's side, since Snape was her friend.

Carl even speculated that Snape had run a sneaky plot at least a few times where he would start the trouble with James and his group, and when the altercation ended, he would show his pitiful puppy dog eyes to Lily, who would tear into James.

Carl came to the conclusion that Snape would have done something like this because it was basically what Draco Malfoy had done years later with Harry. Provoke a conflict with Harry when his godfather Snape was around, so when Harry exploded Malfoy would use his relationship with Snape and his pitiful look to get Harry in trouble.

So Lily would have been conditioned all year to automatically take Snapes side. So when Petunia complained about Snape to her, Lily would have felt like it was a repeat of the whole year and automatically protect Snape from her sister.

Petunia would have been hurt by her own sister taking the side of Snape. It would only take so much of that before she felt like the magical world had taken her sister from her. Petunia would have felt like the magicals were cruel people.

Especially if she ended up getting pranked by James or his friends in later years when Lily started dating James.

Any amount of casual pranks to the Marauders, who were used to dealing with future Death Eaters, would have felt horribly demeaning, frightening, and cruel to Petunia.

The fact that they could reverse the effects would not have helped one whit. The sense of helplessness, the fear. That would stick with Petunia.

So while Carl was completely speculating about their past based on one sentence from Petunia, he really couldn't blame her for the fear and hate toward magicals if anything like that had happened.

And the couple hadn't been cruel to him at all. He was even put in the spare bedroom, rather than the cupboard under the stairs.

Thinking about that, Carl was thinking that Harry's own accidental magic was probably the catalyst for him being chucked in the cupboard under the stairs.

Carl wasn't blaming Harry for it, by any means, but the catalyst for why he was so poorly treated by the Dursleys was likely Harry's own accidental magic.

A small 15 month old boy who had seen his mother die in front of his eyes, gone through the trauma of a death curse, been messed up by a horcrux, and was suddenly plopped into an environment where he was merely tolerated, not loved? Yeah, chances were high that his emotions went out of whack and caused some kind of accident.

And if that accident affected Dudley? Or even almost affected Dudley?

Yeah, chances were that was the reason that Harry got chucked into the cupboard that was as far from Dudley's room as it could be in the house.

"Keep him busy with chores and he won't have time to mess about with that freak business" was probably the rationale for the excessive chores.

And if some accident happened to Dudley because of Harry's magic, but they couldn't get rid of Harry because of the fear of the rest of the magical world? Which resulted in the Dursleys feeling guilty for putting Dudley in danger, even if it would protect them from further danger? Then they would probably overcompensate and give him lots of gifts and spoil him.

That accident would likely have happened after a few weeks. In that time Vernon would have seen all the crazy freaks celebrating Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived in public, so he would have gotten an inkling of how much the dark freaks would have wanted to find the boy for revenge.

And the more time that passed where none of the freaks showed up at their house, the more convinced the Dursleys would have been that the protections were working.

And that was the basics of the hate-need relationship that developed between the Dursleys and Harry, or at least that is what made sense to Carl, based on the few clues he had to work with.

What did all this mean for Carl? Why was he thinking of this?

Because as a 15 month old, he knew he couldn't survive on his own. He knew from the canon books that there were despicably evil Death Eaters out there that would love to skin him alive and torture him to death.

The original Harry lived with the Dursleys until it was time to go to Hogwarts. He survived, so those wards that Dumbledore put up had to have done _something, _even if he didn't know the exact details.

Ultimately, Carl knew he would be here for the next 10 years. And the best way to make his life for the next decade not suck was to avoid accidental magic. While he didn't need to go so far as to become the Dursley's House Elf to suck up to them, he needed to at least keep up the appearance of normality to keep them from actively thinking of him as a freak.

So his step 1 would be to meditate. He needed to make sure he was in charge of his emotions, since emotional spikes seemed to be connected to accidental magic. And meditation was likely to be connected to the Occlumency skill, and maybe even the preliminary steps to gaining an animagus form, so he figured it would be good to arrive at Hogwarts with that much work and effort put in.

Step 2 would be to observe Dudley and imitate him, to a degree. It had been a long time since Carl was a kid, and he had no idea how to be a 2 year old. So he would take his cue from Dudley as to what kind of activities he would be interested in, and what level of development he should be at.

Step 3…profit?

Carl had no idea. There were a lot of fanfic ideas, speculation, and hopes and dreams for magic that he would like to explore. But the fact of the matter was that he had no idea what to do.

Sure he knew there was a supposed Prophecy hanging over his head, and that two crazy powerful wizards were going to do everything they could to force Carl, who was now Harry, to fulfill said Prophecy.

Carl's opinion on that could be summed up in three words: Load of Shit.

Sitting in the corner of his room, Rubbing his lightning bolt scar which was probably a horcrux – 'And what the hell am I going to do with that Horcrux, anyway?' – Carl was at a loss for what he could do. He was feeling a bit overwhelmed at the huge changes in his life.

Not only was he in a difficult situation as a 1 year old, with the knowledge of what was likely awaiting him, but he was starting to feel like he was on the verge of crying.

Without wasting any more time, Carl adjusted himself so he was sitting cross legged and began trying to figure out just what the hell someone did when meditating.

Looking down at his belly button for a few moments, Carl thought he may have been taking the phrase "navel gazing" a little too literally.

Looking across at the light switch on the wall, Carl focused on that one item. He studied the features of the light switch. He thought about its function. How flipping light switched felt. How the light would fill the room when flipping up the light switch, and how the room would get dark when flipping down the light switch.

Carl didn't let anything else distract him from thinking about everything he knew about light switches. He thought about where the copper wires ran in the walls to go from the switch to the light bulb. About how the electricity entered the house and passed by the switch, then moved on to the light bulb, back to the switch, and once more exited the house.

Focusing on something that was not related to his situation seemed to calm him. His young body's emotions calmed down and he was no longer feeling overwhelmed. The sadness that the Harry Potter memories of his parents imparted to him took a step back in his mind.

Carl took a deep breath in, held it, and then exhaled slowly, imagining that he was expelling all the negative feelings that were so threatening before.

"I don't know if that's how other people meditate, but it seemed to work for me." Carl whispered to himself.

Carl returned to his meditation attempts while he waited in the room.

A short time later, he felt the need to take a piss growing. Standing up, he moved over to the door and stared up at the doorknob that he could barely reach.

"I don't know when kids get potty trained. But I am _not_ going to piss myself until Dudley figures it out!"

Jumping up, Carl managed to grab the handle. With a twist, he opened the door. Cautiously looking out, he saw the hall was empty. Listening intently, he heard the sounds of Petunia and Vernon talking. He couldn't make out what they were saying, just heard their voices. Occasionally he heard the laughing sound of Dudley.

'Guess they are talking while they feed the little tyke?' Carl thought. 'Should I wander down after going to the bathroom and make myself known to get some food?'

The empty feeling in his belly decided him. If the Dursleys ended up starving him maliciously would be one thing, but if they just neglected him because they didn't really care for him and he didn't fight for his share of food and grew up into a runt, that would be his own stupidity.

He made his way to the bathroom in the hallway and shut the door behind him. He saw there was a stepstool next to the toilet. Pulling it into position, he soon had his shorts down and feeling good about the stream he was making.

After flushing and washing his hands, Carl- no, Harry, made his was downstairs. He stood at the edge of the dining room, looking in for a bit before he was noticed by Petunia.

"What are you doing here?" Petunia asked a bit too harshly in Harry's opinion.

"Food?" Harry asked hopefully in what he hoped was an innocently childish imitation.

Petunia sighed and massaged the bridge of her nose, while Vernon snorted in amusement.

"Well, scrawny he is but he seems to follow his stomach." Vernon joked, causing Petunia to gain a small, strained smile. Even if she was estranged from her sister, it still hurt that she was now dead. Especially how uncaring and callous those freaks were to inform her by letter when dropping her nephew off on her doorstep in the middle of the night like an unwanted sack of potatoes.

"Yeah. Sit over there." Petunia pointed at one of the chairs at the table. Harry walked over and pulled out the chair. Climbing up, he sat while Petunia busied herself at the stove and Vernon continued reading the paper while he ate.

He looked over at Dudley who was in a booster chair busy playing with his food. He didn't know how this Dudley would turn out in the end, but right now he was somewhat of an adorably fat toddler. Chuckling a bit the happily playing boy, Carl admitted to himself that he could see how Dudley's parents had grown so fond of him.

'As long as they don't go spoiling him for whatever reason, either to emphasis how unwanted and unloved Harry is, or to make up for the guilt they feel, this Dudley shouldn't turn into such a bad guy.' Carl thought.

In the canon story, once Harry saved Dudley from the Dementor, he really changed himself. If canon Dudley had that potential inside him, even after years of being a bully and spoiled brat, then this Dudley definitely had potential to be a decent person. Hopefully he wouldn't need to go through the same experiences to finally learn to be a decent person.

Carl/Harry thought of ways he could help with that. Kind of hard when he was pretty much the same age as Dudley.

'Maybe if I can just be his friend and cousin/brother?' Harry thought. 'As long as I keep my temper and don't have crazy accidental magic, the Dursleys seem willing to at least treat me in a neutral manner.'

Carl's thoughts were interrupted by a plate of pancakes and eggs being put in front of him.

"Eat." Petunia said in a decently normal tone of voice, before beginning to fuss over Dudley.

Harry flashed his aunt a smile and began awkwardly eating the food. His hands didn't seem to want to follow his orders like he was used to. Internally shaking his head, Harry began planning ways to train his body so that he didn't feel so awkward in it.

A short time later, Vernon put away his paper, piled his plate in the sink, rubbed Dudley's head, kissed his wife, and left for work.

Harry ended up in the living room with Dudley while Petunia cleaned up while keeping an eye on the two boys. He watched Dudley play with the toys and sat down with him. He didn't try to grab any of Dudley's toys from him to start playing with them.

He had seen Dudley watching him occasionally during breakfast. He really didn't know what kind of thoughts ran through a regular 2 year old, but he knew that humans could be territorial. If he tried to grab Dudley's toys, it might precipitate a fit. It would probably be better to get Dudley used to his presence and make friends first, before trying to imitate the young boy and play with toys.

It seemed to work, cause only a few minutes later Dudley handed him a little car to play with. Harry smiled at Dudley, who smiled back at him. They soon started playing together.

Harry had an idea after a few minutes when he was already feeling bored from the lack of mental stimulation. He started treating this play time with Dudley as a time to meditate. It had worked earlier when he had put all his attention on the light switch, everything else had fallen to the wayside. All his concerns and worries had seemed less important and his mind had been focused on just the one thing.

So Carl decided to try to do the same thing with the play. He would focus all his attention on the moment, trying to let his attention focus on one thing while allowing his mind to wander. It didn't make a lot of sense when he was trying to come up with a way to describe it, but it seemed to be working for Harry.

Meditation seemed to be kind of like those Magic Eye pictures, really. You had to focus on it, while looking through it, be focused yet unfocused in a particular way. No matter how much someone described the method to be able to see those 3D pictures, a person had to experiment on their own to get the hang of it. And some people never figured out how to do it.

Harry felt like he was starting to get the meditation thing, maybe. It felt like it was calming him, at least, which is what he hoped for from it. Now he just needed to continue doing and experimenting with it, to see how much use he could get out of it.

In the afternoon Vernon arrived home with a mattress for Harry to sleep on. Seeing that, Harry felt like there were a lot of things that Dumbledore really should have done to make things easier for the Dursleys.

How much money does it take to provide for a kid? Aside from food, there are clothes, bed, bedding, hygiene items, and a host of other things. And what does Dumbledore do? Drop him on the doorstep with nothing else. No financial aid, as far as Harry knew. No bag of clothes, just what he was wearing. No toys to keep him occupied. Nothing but the boy and an expectation to provide for him.

Yeah, thinking of it now, Harry could see how the initial expense of providing for Harry, an unwanted complication to Vernon's life, could have annoyed the man greatly.

But seeing the man bring home a mattress so Harry could have somewhere to sleep at night actually caused him to feel a bit of respect for this Vernon. Dare he say it, a bit of affection for the opinionated man. He at least seemed to be family oriented and proactive. Admirable qualities.

Thinking about the whole situation, he felt that he could come to like these Dursleys. Understanding how a person got to a certain point in their life due to the various influences on them was one thing. Forgiving them for what they actually did, their actions, was another thing. Just because someone could feel sympathy for a person for being in a tough situation didn't mean they had to countenance their actions when they did something wrong.

Like Vernon, for example. By the time that the original Harry had turned 11, his relationship with his relatives were horrible. Vernon treated Harry poorly, barely provided for him, and at least verbally abused him.

But this Vernon that Carl/Harry was dealing with hadn't gotten to that point yet. He hadn't actually done the actions that made the story Vernon such a bastard. So Harry just had to keep up his part and not disrupt their lives, as much as he was able, in order to not put Vernon in the position where he would commit actions against him.

If he could have a good relationship with the Dursleys, then his life would be better and he wouldn't be starved or worked to the bone. So it was in his own self interest to not be a snotty little bastard that provokes conflict with his new guardians just because a story version of them was less than ideal.

And just like that, on Carl's first day in the new world he became Harry Potter and began his life with the Dursleys. He fell into a deep sleep on the mattress and sheets that his new Uncle Vernon had purchased especially for him.

* * *

"Up, up! Get up, boys! It's your first day of school!"

Harry easily rolled out of his bed at his Aunt Petunia's call from the hallway, having already been awake. He laughed out loud when he heard the thump of Dudley falling out of bed in the next room. His cousin was not a morning person.

On the other hand, he always woke up very early and spent some time in his meditation practice before starting his day. Over the past five years, he felt like he had made a lot of progress in his ability to meditate.

He could quickly drop into the mindset needed at a moment's notice now. Even if his cousin was being loud and rambunctious, a quick bit of effort and his emotions would smooth out and he wouldn't feel the need to indulge in frustration, anger, sadness, or other strong emotions.

Harry was very thankful that the meditation seemed to come so easily to him, because his young body seemed to experience emotions very strongly. Without the help of meditation, he would have lost control long ago, which would have probably ended up with a bout of accidental magic. He could always feel his magic inside. Sometimes it bubbled around excitably, sometimes it flowed calmly like a deep river.

Being able to calm himself and avoid accidental magic had allowed his relationship with the Dursley to continue getting better and better. They never threw him into the cupboard under the stairs. They never forced him to cook, or hit his head with frying pans. He was treated like a normal boy, which suited him just fine.

After making his bed, he pulled on the pants and shirt he would wear for his first day at school, tied his shoes, and then scooped up his glasses from the desk and put them on. The world around him came into focus. He was still annoyed that he used to have perfect vision but Voldemort ruined it for him. What a dick.

Harry left his room and went downstairs and sat at the table.

"Morning!" He called out to his aunt with a smile.

"Someone is eager for their first day of school." Aunt Petunia commented with a smile from her place at the stove.

"Yeah, I think it will be fun." Harry answered while twisting back and forth on his chair. Kids were fidgety, he had learned from watching Dudley. "Dudley didn't seem as excited about it, until he heard about the kind of games we can play with others at recess."

"Oh, that boy. So active." Petunia fondly muttered.

Harry smiled a bit at his Aunt's obvious love for her son. He wasn't a normal six year old that yearned for the love and care of a mother figure, so he didn't feel jealousy or feel there was anything wrong with her pouring more love for her own child than for him. In fact, he quite enjoyed the secondhand feelings of love between the family members, and was content that his relatives didn't treat him poorly.

He was quite happy and thankful for his meditation practice, since it kept him from doing accidental magic, which kept his relatives happy and made sure he had a decent relationship with them. As a result of their good relationship he was allowed to play games with Dudley; Harry made sure a lot of those games involved him and Dudley running around the yard. As a result, Dudley wasn't the fat ball of pudding that was described in the original story.

He also found that, aside from his vision that was messed up by a curse, the rest of his senses were sharpened through his meditation. So he often heard the little mutters and whispers of people around him, even when they didn't intend for him to overhear.

Harry wasn't sure if his slightly better than normal hearing was a result of his magic enhancing his senses, or if it was just a natural result of being able to concentrate better through meditation. Either way, he was happy with it.

'Now, if I could just get rid of this damned Horcrux and regain my perfect sight.' Harry sighed in resignation. He knew it would be a long time before he could rid himself of the fragment of Riddle's soul.

Aunt Petunia put down a plate of breakfast for him and Dudley at the table just as Dudley came running into the kitchen.

"No running in the Kitchen, Dudley!" Petunia snapped.

"Sorry, mum." Dudley sat down at the table and began eating. "Yum!" Dudley mumble-hummed through his food. The boy did like his meals.

Petunia beamed down at her son, before returning to the stove to fix up a plate for her and Vernon.

While Harry ate, he thought once more about the Horcrux. It was something he had pondered off and on over the previous five years.

From the original story he knew there were three methods to get rid of the damned thing. Basilisk venom, Fiendfyre, and the Killing Curse. None of those were methods that he would use willy nilly.

Even the idea of injecting a bit of Basilisk Venom into his scar before using Phoenix Tears to heal the damage after destroying the Horcrux had a lot of risk involved, namely death. There's no way he would make that attempt himself. At the very least he would have a qualified healer on hand to do the procedure.

The idea of trying to control Fiendfyre enough to burn out just the Horcrux was ludicrous. His face would melt before he got rid of the soul piece, no doubt.

And he had no idea if simply casting the Killing Curse on himself would work. Part of the theory why it worked with the original Harry was that since he and Voldemort were so tightly bound and linked together, then Voldemort casting the Killing Curse somehow was seen as suicide? Or something like that. Harry was a bit iffy on the whole situation that Dumbledore manufactured to end the threat of the Dark Lord.

What if Harry cast the Killing Curse on himself and the same thing happened to him? His soul went on, but the fragment was left behind to take over his body. He didn't want to take the chance of that.

So, ultimately Harry was stuck with being a soul jar for Voldemort for the time being. When he finally returned to the Wizarding world at age 11, he would have to start doing some research to see if any of the fanon ideas could work.

Using Occlumency and his magic skills to overcome the Horcrux and plunder if of all of Voldemort's magical knowledge was a favorite idea of his. It would empower him and redress an imbalance between him and Voldemort, namely their knowledge of magic.

But that's where he was stumped, really. The night that Voldemort came to kill Harry, old Riddle was about 55 years old. Which meant that he had 44 years of magical knowledge, experience, and practice.

Throwing his 0 years of magical knowledge and experience into a magical mind battle against a Dark Lord that was renounced for his Dark Arts and Occlumency/Legilimancy skills? What, did he want to commit suicide? He wasn't that big of an idiot.

The only reason the soul piece hadn't already taken him over was that weird Rune Scheme / contract that Lily had set up just before her death.

"Go brush your teeth and grab your school bag. It's time to go to school." Petunia said when she saw that Harry and Dudley were done with their breakfast.

Harry followed Dudley to the bathroom and joined him in brushing his teeth while continuing to think about Lily Potter. Because of the body he was now in, she could be considered his mother. At least half a mother.

When he had been able to really think about the confrontation between Voldemort and Lily, he had wondered and speculated about it. It seemed weird that Voldemort would pause for even a second when he was attacking. Even if he had promised Snape that he would spare Lily for him, Harry didn't believe for a second that, faced with a defiant mother, Voldemort would have paused and entertained those three pleas/demands.

There had to have been some major mojo in those runes to force Voldemort to pause and respond. Harry wondered if it was some type of magical ritual / contract. The moment that Voldemort broke it by trying to kill Harry while still surrounded by the contract, he had suffered the backlash.

'Another thing to try to research when I get older.' Harry thought while he and Dudley were being walked to school by Aunt Petunia. 'See if I can find the books that Lily found that ritual thing in. See if I can find anything of my parents once I get back to the wizarding world.'

While he was sitting through the classes on his first day, only barely paying attention to the easy lessons, Harry was continuing to think about the various ideas about how he could get rid of the Horcrux.

The idea that he could spend a bit of gold paying the Goblins to remove it was great. But he didn't know anything concrete about them. He didn't know how far he could trust their sense of honor and contract, or if they even had the means to remove the soul piece.

If the Goblins could do it, could the Department of Mysteries? St. Mungos? A Native American wizard named something like Bearclaw? (Bearclaw's mother really liked donuts. She was odd like that, to name her son after a pastry.)

Could Harry pay for a muggle surgeon to shave off bits of his skull until they got the Horcrux out?

Could he simply have a doctor stop his heart for a few moments to simulate death, then revive him when the Horcrux died?

There were so many possibilities, and all of them were out of his reach for the time being. He was only six! He had no power or ability to make his own choices in life yet, aside from which clothes he was going to be wearing for the day.

So Harry resigned himself to simply waiting. He would enjoy these simple days as a kid without any worry while he could.

* * *

"Psst, Harry!"

Harry looked around and saw Dudley with a couple boys behind him on the playground.

"Yeah?" Harry answered.

"We heard there was a spooky condemned house over on Wisteria lane. We're going to go check it out after school, you in?" Dudley asked, while the other boys were whispering excitedly.

"Yeah, sounds like fun." Harry chuckled. He remembered that when he was a boy in his past life he too had joined some kids while they were exploring a construction site. He had jumped on some boards which broke and one of the ends had somehow stuck into his arm, leaving some big splinters. His parents had to take him to the doctor to get them removed and stitches. So he knew that young boys will be adventurous.

The past few years had been pretty simple, just normal school days. Dudley was actually quite a social person, so he had gathered a group of boys that always had fun playing games after school or just running amok looking for something interesting to do. Harry joined them more often than not, since they at least provided a break from the normal routine of school, homework, etc.

After the final class was over for the day, they were released from the confines of school. Harry met up with the group and they began heading for the abandoned "spooky" house.

The idea to have some fun poking around an abandoned house had seemed like a good idea before. But now that Harry was standing in front of the house, he was starting to have second thoughts.

To either side of the house were normal tract housing. They looked normal and like they were well maintained.

But the house in question looked like it had been standing there for decades without any maintenance done. The paint job had long since faded to a grey rotted wood look. There was a gable roof over the porch where the front door was centered on. There were several windows on the second floor, each of which seems to have been papered over.

Something about the house was really creeping him out. It felt like something was just out of sight, staring intently at him. He felt a shiver go down his spine. He really didn't like the looks of this house.

Apparently the rest of the guys were having a similar reaction. Harry looked over at the other guys who were all standing and staring nervously at the house. Piers, Dennis, Gordon, Malcolm, and Robert were all nervously shifting their feet, but unwilling to be seen a wimp who would back out.

"I don't know about this. That house seems a little too…weird." Harry stated, only then noticing how dry his mouth was.

"Yeah, if Harry thinks it's weird, it must be." Dudley agreed. Over the years he had known Harry, he had never once seen Harry showing fear or being weirded out by anything, no matter how out there what he said was.

"What, you afraid?" Piers sarcastically laughed as he began walking determinedly toward the house. "We said we were exploring this house, so we're exploring it!"

Aside from Dudley and Harry, the rest of the boys trailed along behind Piers. Harry and Dudley exchanged glances.

"Reckon we ought to go with them." Dudley said.

"Yeah. I guess we should, if only to keep them out of trouble." Harry said. He had never understood what people meant before when they were talking about their sixth sense telling them of danger, but he sure did now. Even his magic was warning him going near this house was a bad idea. He had no idea why, and he really didn't want to find out. But he had to at least try to keep the guys out of whatever danger was setting off this feeling.

Harry and Dudley then walked forward. They arrived on the porch when the boys were just opening the front door.

"Hey, it's not even locked!" Piers excitedly exclaimed. "Let's check it out! Maybe there will be some cool treasures or something!"

One by one, the boys filed into the house. Harry was the last to enter. He was looking around nervously, trying to spot just what it was that was making him so jumpy.

The door that Harry had left open deliberately slammed shut at that moment. Harry and the rest of the gang spun around in shock.

"Harry, why'd you slam the door like that? Gave me a heart attack!" Gordon shouted.

"Dude, it wasn't me. I left the door wide open." Harry replied.

"Must have been the wind, then." Robert said.

Everyone but Harry relaxed, now that they had a reasonable explanation. They began poking around the entryway, looking at and making fun of the various paintings on the wall.

Without discussing it, the group of boys decided to stick together while they explored. They left the entry hall and moved to what looked like a room for entertaining guests. There was a piano in one corner of the large room, and chairs and couches arranged in clusters, with white sheets over them.

The groups of boys, even Dudley who had been nervous previously, started relaxing and playing around. They picked up some of the sheets and messed about with them. Dennis moved over to the piano and opened it up so he could plink about on it.

No sounds came from the piano though. The keys didn't even depress, which was another oddity.

"Damn, what's up with this piano!" Dennis exclaimed. "The keys don't even move. Is it so old they got stuck?"

Harry was standing near the other boys, looking at the piano. The rest of the group was focused on Dennis. So Harry was the only one who saw the shape of the white keys change. They lengthened and got sharp.

"Dennis! Get away from the people now!" Harry barked at the boy.

Thankfully Dennis listened to Harry and didn't stupidly stand there asking "What?" Dennis jumped away from the piano just as it opened up like an enormous mouth and tried to bite Dennis. The jaws of the piano monster snapped shut with a discordant clashing of piano notes.

"Ahhh! What the fuck!?" Dennis yelled as he and the rest of the gang ran as fast as they could back to the entrance door. Screw this house! They're getting out!

Harry arrived first at the door to outside and grabbed the handle, trying to open it.

"Shit! It won't open!" Harry called out. The rest of the boys started yelling their own panicked questions, so no one could understand anything.

After a few moments of listening to the panicked babble, Harry shouted loudly for them to shut up!

"This house is weird. We need to figure out how to get out. Look around for something we can use to break a window and climb out." Harry commanded once they had shut up.

"There's this coat rack!" Dudley announced, picking up one of those coat rack stands that was basically pole on a tripod.

"Good, grab that Duds and let's go over to this room and try to break a window." Harry stated while pointing at the room opposite of the piano room. They could still hear the chomping banging of the piano in the room they had ran from.

Dudley picked up the coat rack stand, and they all rushed over to the room Harry had indicated. It looked like it was a room set up for indoor plants. Potted plants were everywhere. The ivy vines and flowers in the pots looked particularly fake to Harry, like they weren't real plants, but decoys meant to deceive someone.

Keeping an eye on the fake plants, Harry urged Dudley to smash open a window. Dudley reared back and threw the coat rack with all his 9 year old strength at the nearest window.

The coat rack bounced off the window with no damage done.

The group of boys were all looking between the window and the coat rack, jaws agape. That should have broken the window.

"Let's try again. This time you help me Robert, since you're the strongest of us besides me." Dudley said.

Dudley and Robert picked up the coat rack, one on each side. They backed away and got a running start and smashed the coat rack into the window. The window didn't even get a scratch, but the impact shocked Dudley and Robert's hands.

"Ow! Dammit!"

"Damn that hurts!"

The two boys complained about their hands stinging.

"This isn't good. Something in this house wants us to stay and be dinner, or something." Harry muttered to himself. He suddenly realized that his magic was acting very frantically inside him. "Well, if there was ever a time for accidental magic, now is the time!" He decided.

Harry then picked up the coat rack. He tried to force his magic to fill up the coat rack, strengthen it with the concept of a battering ram. A battering ram on a huge wheeled contraption that is driven by 20, no 50 tanks. The battering ram is strong, it is inevitable. Nothing can stand against it!

Harry charged forward with a yell, slamming his Battering Ram into the window. With a crunching sound, the window broke, crumpling up like glass never would have and falling out of the window frame.

"Quick, everyone out!" Harry yelled as he saw the fake plants begin to move and stretch out toward them. Harry dropped the battering ram to the side and grabbed Dudley to pull him out of the house. His relatives would never forgive him if he didn't at least get Dudley out!

The boys, almost in one bunch, all jumped out the window and didn't stop running until they were nearly a block away from the house. They were all bent over, gasping for breath and still filled with fear about the close call they had.

Harry looked over the lads, and frowned.

"Hey, where is Robert?" He asked.

"Who?" Piers asked.

"Robert! Where is he?"

"Dude, we don't know any Robert." Gordon said, looking at Harry like he was wondering what the joke was.

"None of you know Robert?" Harry asked, feeling a rising sense of horror.

"No. This is the whole gang." Dudley confirmed for Harry. "Where are you going, Harry?"

"I'm checking that house. I don't think Robert got out."

"What house?" Malcolm asked.

Harry whipped back around to stare incredulously at the group of boys.

"What do you mean, 'what house'? The house we just escaped from!" Harry shouted.

"Dude, what do you mean? What house did we escape from? I thought we ran from a dog." Gordon said.

"Yeah, it was a pretty mean dog that chased us for a bit, that's why we're so out of breath." Piers added on, although Harry saw that his gaze was a bit unfocused.

"Yeah, it as even worse than Aunt Marge's dog, Ripper." Dudley added in a slightly confused tone of voice.

"Shit." Harry subvocalized. There was definitely some mojo going on here. "I'm going to check something out." Harry then marched back to where they had just escaped from the house.

After turning the corner, he only saw an empty lot. There was no sign that there had ever been a house there. Harry had chills running down his back. The house disappeared and no one remembered Robert McKinnon but him. A thought occurred to Harry, and he began jogging down the streets to Robert's house.

The group of boys confusedly followed behind him. They weren't sure just what had happened to Harry, but he was acting pretty odd.

A few minutes later, they arrived at Robert's house. He was an only boy, so his parents had given him plenty of toys, which were strewn around the yard.

When they arrived, Harry saw Robert's dad just setting a box full of Robert's things on the curb.

"Hey, you're some neighborhood boys I've seen around, yeah?" When Mr. McKinnon saw them, he smiled and waved at the boys like he had never met them before, even though they had spent plenty of afternoons at Robert's house in the past three years.

"Either someone has been playing a prank on my wife and me, or we just never got around to cleaning out that room when we moved in!" He jovially said. "There was a bunch of toys and whatnot just lying around in that room. If you want, you can have some of this stuff. If not, it'll get thrown with the trash."

Carl gaped at the box of Robert's stuff that his dad was setting out. Apparently his parents had also forgotten Robert. They had moved into the neighborhood over six years ago. But now he was coming up with some excuse of not cleaning a room for six years to cover the gap in his memory.

"Cool!"

"Hey, dibs on the glove."

"Thanks, Mr. McKinnon!"

Harry just stood frozen as he watched the rest of the guys going through Robert's things and grabbing what they wanted without a care. No one remembered Robert but him.

"I think I'll just take this." Harry muttered when he saw one of Robert's footy trophies in the box. It had his name on it, and even a picture of Robert in a frame next to it.

He would keep the picture and trophy as a memorial to Robert. Even if no one else remembered him, Harry would. He worked hard to keep tears from falling, so no one would ask him what was wrong.

They split up after a bit and went to their separate homes. Harry found a place on his shelves and put the trophy and picture there. The boy that disappeared from everyone's mind when he got caught by that house.

Later that evening, after dinner, Harry was staring at the trophy, cementing in his mind all the times he had with Robert. The kid hadn't even gotten out of primary.

It made him wonder, really. There was no mention of Robert anywhere in the original story. All the other members of his and Dudley's group of friends were mentioned. Did this happen in the original story? Was Robert dared by the group to go in alone, and he disappeared from their minds and life, as if he had never been?

For the first time, Harry really truly understood just how dangerous the world of magic could be.

* * *

It took Harry quite some time to get over the depressed funk that losing Robert had put him in. Every time he looked at the trophy, he wondered just why he didn't stay to make sure they all got out. He had grabbed Dudley and run. What would be different if he had acted a bit different. Would he have been able to save Robert?

While the saying "Time heals all wounds" was true, it doesn't touch on the part where they leave behind scars. As time passed, Harry eventually realized that he had to eventually let go and live his life. He couldn't be lost in the what ifs, should haves, and if onlys.

So while he would always remember Robert, who was a friend for three years while he was in primary, he had to live his life. Harry comforted himself with thinking that Robert would have slugged him in the arm and called him a pussy if he saw how mopey Harry was being.

Life returned easily to the normal routine of school, school work, chores, and meditation.

The only change, really, was that Harry was working harder on his meditation now. He was working to gain a closer control and feel for his magic.

The brush with death and how close he had come to being forgotten to anyone in the world caused Harry to feel a sense of crises. He only survived and saved Dudley and the rest of the guys through his magic. And he had been sitting back all this time while growing up, wasting the opportunity to train it, or use it, or figure out wandless magic or something.

Sure, he had been practicing meditation, but he had long since plateaued on his skill there, and he wasn't pushing himself to experiment and learn more.

His reasons had been good, or rather his excuses. He hadn't wanted to accidentally do something that would scare the Dursleys. His relationship with them was only as good as it was because he had avoided any magical accidents happening, which would have caused them to fear him, or take their fear and anger out on him.

So he had been reluctant to rock the boat and experiment where they could find out.

But now in the aftermath of the House Incident, he felt like he was wasting his potential, wasting his time, and that if he didn't get a move on, he would die an ignoble death that he could have prevented with a bit more magical skill or ability.

Which led to Harry being out early on a Saturday morning at the local park. Dudley was home playing some games or watching telly or something. Looking around, he saw that he was pretty much alone. Some older people were walking around, but they were pretty far away.

Closing his eyes, Harry felt his magic as it flowed through him. It felt like a deep river at the moment, while he was calm. When he had used his magic to fortify his Battering Ram, his magic had been quite agitated and gushing forth like a waterfall.

Harry worked to rile up his magic, to bring it forth and use it. His imagery of the massive battering ram had worked, so he felt like the intent and imagery was the most important thing in directing his magic.

Once he had gotten his magic riled up, he opened his eyes and looked around. There wasn't really anything he wanted to break, smash, change, or rip up around him in the park. He didn't want to leave a mess and evidence of what he would do with his magic.

What if he turned it inward, though? He was thinking of how there seemed to be dark rituals to permanently change and enhance someone, if Voldemort was any indication. So if there was magic to permanently change someone, couldn't he use his magic to temporarily boost himself?

It worked for the ninjas of the Naruto comic, and magic is much more versatile than chakra, so Harry was hoping it would work.

Closing his eyes again, Harry focused on the idea of magic enhancing his muscles with extra strength, speed, durability and endurance. He used his long years of meditation practice to focus on just that one idea, of enhancing his body with magic.

He let the magic flow and do what he was asking. He felt an immediate change. It was like he was suffused with power.

He opened his eyes and began running. He took off like a shot, tearing down the green of the park. Seeing a bench nearby, he jumped over it and went soaring. He had freaking springs in his legs!

His concentration was ruined by his elation and fun, and the magic receded from him, causing him to stumble mid stride and go tumbling.

Harry lay on his back, catching his breath from the tumble. He began laughing crazily. It worked! He could enhance himself to be harder, better, faster, stronger!

'Now I just need to master this and I'll be much more prepared to protect myself.' Harry thought as he climbed to his feet to have another go.

He soon got into the mindset he needed to improve his concentration. He soon had the magic flowing and enhancing his body once more.

"That was definitely too slow. I need to be much faster than that at embracing this power." Harry whispered. Since it left no outward sign of what was happening, Harry knew he could practice it anywhere. In class, in his room, or even while he was walking. "Just as long as I don't do this on the playground. Besides letting people see me using superhuman abilities, I don't want to chance hurting anyone."

Harry then started practicing activating his body enhancement at a faster speed. He was hoping to get it to less than a second by the time he left for Hogwarts.

* * *

Time continued to pass by relatively quickly for Harry. He kept up with his studies and occupied himself with training his magic and body enhancement use of magic. He soon became adept at being several times stronger than a normal boy his age.

The more he practiced, the faster he got at activating his magic enhancement, and the longer he was able to hold the enhancement magic. Soon enough simply running around the park wasn't enough for him, since there were a distinct lack of obstacles for him to use as practice.

So he had to figure out a way so that he could free run around the neighborhood without being noticed. The neighborhood was chock full of unrepentant gossips. If anyone saw him doing something unusual, word would immediately get back to his Aunt, and there would go all the hard work he had put into having a good relationship with his relatives.

So he began practicing deploying an S.E.P. field. The Someone Else's Problem field would keep people from paying attention to him and what he did. Since magic seemed to run on intent, he figured he had a decent chance of creating an effect that would follow his desires to be unnoticed.

The problem he ran into was how was he to test it? Asking anyone to be his test dummy was right out. But where could he practice the SEP field where he wouldn't get in trouble for being there, but would have an immediate answer as to whether it was working?

Harry wracked his brains for an answer, and it soon popped into his mind. Old man Dustan! He was halfway down the neighborhood and he was absolutely fanatical about his lawn. Whatever he did in his house all day was a mystery, but he always kept half an eye out for neighborhood kids that walked on his lawn. If he saw anyone daring to touch his lawn, he would immediately burst out of his door and chase the kid down.

He never actually beat any kids if he caught them, he knew he would get in trouble with the law. But he would give them such a telling off while dragging them to their homes, the kids would completely avoid his place from then on.

So when Harry thought he had the SEP field down, he made a trip to old man Dustan's place. Focusing his concentration on the SEP field, he slowly approached the lawn of doom. Without losing his concentration, his work with the physical enhancements had improved Harry's concentration greatly, he reached a foot out and stepped on the lawn.

Nothing happened. Old man Dustan never came out. Just to be sure it was his SEP field working, and not that something was distracting the cantankerous coot, Harry dropped his SEP field.

The door banged open immediately! The old man came charging out, straight over his lawn.

'Crazy old man! He walks on it just fine, but doesn't let anyone else do so.' Carl thought as he put the SEP field up again while preparing to run if it didn't work.

The old man took another couple of steps, before starting to look around in confusion, unsure of just what he was doing. After looking around to be sure that no one was around, he sniffed and turned around. After he entered his house and slammed the door shut, Harry started chuckling.

He decided to put some distance between him and that crazy old man first. While he was walking away, Harry started working on the next step of his training plan.

He had done a great job of training himself to concentrate on one thing, and then he added his magic into the mix and was able to get the results he wanted from concentrating on that thing.

But how was he to run crazy through the neighborhood shouting "Parkour!" if he couldn't do two spells at the same time?

So he needed to learn how to concentrate to have his SEP field up, while also keeping his physical enhancement magic going. In a way he was already doing it, since he had been practicing his meditation while paying attention in class, or walking, and other things.

He just needed to allocate enough concentration on both spells to make sure his magic did what he wanted. That was another thing he had discovered. That a certain amount of concentrating on the spell needed to be done to keep it stead and not drop it. So having the requisite amount of concentration on both spells at the same time would be difficult, but not impossible.

And he was sure this practice would help him when he got to Hogwarts. How much easier it would make the spells they learned there, he wasn't sure. But he was still excited to go to a magic school of people he had read about! His childhood friends and heroes, come to life!


	16. Reptilia28 Challenge: The beginning

Harry only realized when he jumped at hearing the buzzer that he had been staring into space for a very long time, thinking about absolutely nothing. He looked around his surroundings, trying to figure out what was going on and why he'd been sitting in a waiting room for who knows how long, spacing out.

As he looked around, he saw quite a few other people sitting in chairs, staring blankly into space. It was beginning to creep him out a bit.

"Harry Potter!" A voice called out to him. He looked around and saw a lady standing at an open door to his left. She was a tall blonde dressed as an office worker. "Come on, Potter. We don't have all day, get the lead out."

"Okay…What's going on here?" Harry asked as he stood up to follow the office worker lady.

As he walked along the hall behind the door he entered, he saw all kinds of motivational posters on the walls. Even though they had the cats in them, the words were a bit different from the ones that Hermione had introduced to him.

_'An essential aspect of Creativity is Divinity.'_

_'Keep Calm and Smite Evil.'_

_'Life Begins with the Word.'_

"Here we are. Go on in, your Reaper is waiting for you." The lady stated.

"My what?" Confused, Harry looked for the office worker lady, but found that she was suddenly not there anymore. Scratching his head, and not seeing any other choice for finding out just what was going on, Harry entered the office.

Once he'd opened the door, he saw a stereotypical office. A large mahogany desk stood front and center, with two visitor chairs in front of it. A filing cabinet and small fridge stood off to the right. And a window was on the left wall. Once Harry looked at the window, he couldn't look away. The scene was so beautiful and enthralling, he just spaced out while gazing on the beauty of the scene. It made him feel so many good things. Love, comfort, family, home, acceptance. Without realizing it, tears were falling down his face.

The snap of the blinds shutting broke Harry's view of the window, allowing his attention to snap to the person next to the blinds covering the window.

"It's quite a sight, isn't it?" The tall red haired man smiled gently at Harry.

"Yes, sir." Harry could only nod in agreement, suddenly realizing that tears had been falling freely from his eyes. He couldn't quite remember what the scene was of, Harry just remembered what it made him feel. He quickly wiped away the tears.

"Potter!"

Harry started, realizing he'd been drifting again, and looked apologetically at the man in front of him. Something about the man convinced Harry that the man was an authority figure, and should be deserving of respect.

"It took me a long time to work my way up to this office with that view. You literally couldn't comprehend how much hard work I've put into it. How long I've had to toil in the cubicles without that view. And I'm telling you right now, I will do just about anything to make sure that I keep my office with a view." The man stared hard at Harry, who gulped in nervousness and nodded his understanding.

"Which is why I'm quite upset with you and the way you've been living your life, Harry."

"What?" Harry was having a hard time putting the two statements together. What did his life have to do with this man's office?

"Sit down. We need to talk." The man gave a very put upon sigh as he gestured to one of the chairs. Tea just the way Harry liked it appeared on the desk in front of him. "Go on. This might take a while."

The red haired man picked up his own cup and sipped while eyeing Harry and evaluating what he was going to say. Harry for his part simply waited. He didn't know why he felt like he was 8 again being called in front of the Principal's office, but he did.

"My name is Elohouken, Harry. I've been assigned your case. You can think of me as a cross between a Guardian Angel and a Grim Reaper. I'm supposed to subtly guide you in life to fulfilling your potential. And in death I'm supposed to see to your placing, based on how you did in life."

"So, I'm dead?" Harry gasped in shock.

Elohouken nodded gravely. "What's the last thing you remember before waking up here?"

Harry closed his eyes and cast his thoughts back to the last things he remembered. He thought over the past year. Harry, Hermione, and Ron had started their quest to destroy Voldemort's Horcruxes in high spirits. They had Professor Dumbledore's mandate and they were sure they could finish the job in only a few weeks.

But those weeks had dragged on into months.

Months of listening over the wireless as every day Voldemort's forces took over more of the Wizarding world. Everyday listening to more sham trials that sent muggleborn to concentration camps and to their deaths.

They barely got any hint of word of opposition to the Death Eaters over the wireless, except for the underground radio program of Potterwatch.

Months where they were starving daily from having so little food and no way to restock. They froze because they didn't have any way to heat their tent, and they didn't have enough winter clothes.

And then Ron let his jealousy rear its ugly head once more and he left them.

Alone with Hermione for weeks as they struggled to come up with any ideas on where to look for the blasted Horcrux.

Obsessing over Godrics Hollow, where his family was buried. Falling into the trap that Voldemort set there, and barely getting away.

Watching as Hermione got thinner and thinner, and more despondent because Ron wasn't there.

Then Ron found them months after the New Year, just in time to save Harry when he found the Gryffindor sword at the bottom of the pond and was so close to drowning.

Then, they were captured. Tortured at Malfoy manor.

They escaped with Dobby's help, which ended in Dobby sacrificing himself for Harry.

The evidence they found that Bellatrix had a Horcrux in her vault.

The planning for the break in, stealing the Hufflepuff Cup.

Breaking out on the back of the old blind dragon.

Going to Hogwarts.

Finding the Tiara Horcrux. Escaping from the Fiendfyre.

Then, Voldemort brought his armies. And the ultimatum.

"Riddle found out I was at Hogwarts." Harry opened his eyes. "He brought all of his followers to make sure to catch me. Everyone on our side got word it was happening." Harry's eyes were unfocused as he pictured everything that happened.

The gathering of wizards and witches at Hogwarts.

The chaos of frantic combat.

The deaths of people he cared about.

The ultimatum. Give himself up, or they would all die.

Finding Snape and learning from his memories that Harry was a Horcrux and had to die so Voldemort could be defeated.

"After fighting for a while, Riddle pulled back his forces and gave an ultimatum. If I didn't present myself to him, he would kill everyone. But if I gave myself up, he'd spare those left." Harry softly said, as he remembered walking alone out into the forest and taking another death curse to the face.

"And you believed him." Elohouken scoffed. "What makes you think that Riddle would have kept his word?" Seeing Harry looking at him wide eyed in shock and horror, he waved at Harry to continue.

"But…" Harry slumped in shock as he realized there was no way that Riddle would have kept that promise. Not when he had already won.

"When I found out from Dumbledore through Snape's memory that I was a Horcrux, I knew what I had to do. Riddle was immortal as long as I lived. So I walked out to the forest to die so he could be defeated." Harry mumbled. "After he was mortal, someone could have taken him out."

"Dumbledore had you properly brainwashed all right." Elohouken sighed, shaking his head.

"What do you mean by that?!" Harry asked aggressively, ready to jump to Dumbledore's defense at a moment's notice.

"Harry, I need you to think properly about some questions I'm going to ask. Think you can do that?" Elohouken seemingly diverted the topic of conversation.

Harry glared at him for a moment, suspicious of his motives after insulting Dumbledore. "Fine." Harry eventually agreed.

"Harry, do you think Dumbledore was perfect? Do you think he never made any mistakes? Maybe he had no regrets in life?"

Harry's mind automatically started tallying different times he personally had seen Dumbledore expressing regrets for having made mistakes with regard to how he treated Harry. Or when Dumbledore had seemed pressed down upon because of events he couldn't control.

The way that Dumbledore acted and treated Harry his fifth year, which culminated in Sirius' death. He remembered how Dumbledore told Harry about the prophecy less than an hour after Sirius' death, and when he still didn't know if Hermione was okay, and the rest of his friends too. And then how that summer he was packed off to his relatives and once more kept in the dark. His friends weren't allowed to write him, not even to keep in touch.

Harry remembered even further back how he was entered in the Tri-wizard tournament, even though Dumbledore was supposed to keep anyone who wasn't of age out of it. How Dumbledore told him he couldn't help him get out of the tournament.

Then Harry suddenly realized that there had been a few teachers that Dumbledore let teach at Hogwarts that had been trying to actively kill Harry. Quirrel with Voldemort on the back of his head, and Barty Crouch jr. were just two examples. Then there was how Umbridge had been allowed to run rampant at Hogwarts, and Dumbledore had seemed powerless to do anything about it.

There were many other cases where Dumbledore hadn't been perfect. Or didn't have the power to make things right. And Harry remembered the few times where it looked like Dumbledore had felt like the weight of the world was on his back.

"No, Dumbledore wasn't perfect." Harry voiced his realization out loud. "He made mistakes. But he was always trying to do the best he could. And he was a great man." Harry mechanically echoed the words that Hagrid had once said about the Headmaster, still trying to defend the man, even though he knew Dumbledore wasn't perfect.

"Albus Dumbledore tried to be a good man. But he made mistakes. One of those mistakes he made when he wasn't much older than you are now. His mistake to trust a certain friend led to the death of his dear sister. And throughout his life, he carried the guilt for that mistake. His biggest search in life was for redemption for his own mistake in his youth. But despite how much he tried, he could never quite believe himself forgiven or redeemed."

"So he tried to apply his biggest desire, to be redeemed, to how he approached everything in life. He spent his time trying to redeem all those he saw as walking in the dark. He hoped that by redeeming those dark wizards and witches, then he could find redemption for himself."

"But you see, that's where he failed in so many ways. He never understood that the concept of redemption is not something you can help others with, especially because no one in life is perfect. It is a solo quest, one that someone has to seek out to find for themselves."

"And in his life, Albus Dumbledore took on specific roles of authority in society. When you take up those roles, you gain a certain amount of responsibility and duties. You are then judged based on how you fulfill those roles."

"As a professor or the Headmaster of Hogwarts, his job wasn't to try to redeem his "dark" students. His job was to educate children and young adults. To provide the best environment for educating his students that he could." Elohouken explained. "Instead he used the job like it was a tool for him to advance his agenda. Severus Snape is one example of Albus Dumbledore not fulfilling his duties as Headmaster. After it was obvious that Severus Snape wasn't able to teach properly or treat the students equally, he should never have been kept on as a professor when it was obvious that he couldn't do the job. He sabotaged many student's education because he wanted to reward his spy, and he ignored a lot of complaints he shouldn't have to keep his spy where he wanted him."

"As the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, his job wasn't to redeem dark wizards and give them second chances. His job was to administer the laws of the land, and protect the innocent members of society. He failed that by allowing those who were guilty to go free with a few bribes, thus leaving Voldemort with many supporters free to rejoin him."

"So you see, his philosophy of redemption affected everything he did and caused him to fail to fulfill the responsibilities he took on."

Elohouken paused to let Harry think the matter over. For Harry, it was difficult not to automatically come to Dumbledore's defense any time someone said something negative about him. Maybe there was something to what Elohouken said about being brainwashed…

Frowning in thought, Harry realized that a lot of the things that happened at school really did negatively impact their studies. Even just allowing Malfoy to go around bullying everyone because Snape protected him constantly disrupted their ability to study. And back in sixth year Dumbledore had known that Malfoy was trying to assassinate him and did nothing about it! Katie had been cursed by that necklace, and Ron had been poisoned because of Malfoy. Those two had almost died because Dumbledore kept trying to redeem Malfoy.

And what was the result? Malfoy kept joining up and helping the damned Death Eaters!

"I want you to think about this: What was the result on the wizarding world when Dumbledore died so suddenly, and at the hands of Snape, someone he always claimed to have his full trust?" Elohouken's voice interrupted Harry's thought process.

Harry spent some time thinking back to the end of his sixth year and how everyone reacted. It was like there was no hope among the Wizards and Witches. With Dumbledore gone, it felt like only a matter of time before Voldemort took over. And in the subsequent year, it was proved true. The Ministry fell with almost no effort.

"By that point, everyone knew Voldemort was back. They felt like there was no hope of winning against him after Dumbledore died. The ministry fell not even a couple months later. No one was even trying to fight back in any meaningful way." Harry realized.

Elohouken nodded in agreement. "Despite what you think about your title, The Boy-Who-Lived, you were a rallying point, a beacon of hope for the people of the wizarding world. What do you think would have been the reaction of those who were fighting against Voldemort there at Hogwarts at the end when he announced that you were dead. That you had given yourself up to him without even fighting?"

As Harry thought about it, he grew pale. The way he walked to his death was eerily similar to how Dumbledore just stood there and let himself be cursed by Snape. "Everyone would have lost hope. If the Boy-Who-Lived didn't even fight, then what chance did they have to win?" Harry whispered, imagining all the horrors that Voldemort and his followers would have done to his friends and loved ones after he won. It wouldn't even matter that Voldemort was mortal by then, everyone would have lost all hope of fighting back.

"And that's why I said that Dumbledore had you properly brainwashed. Even after all the horrible things the Death Eaters were doing, even when you were on the ropes, on the verge of losing, you never truly fought back to win. You still followed Dumbledore's philosophy of trying to redeem the enemy who was trying to kill you. You kept using stunners and disarming spells. You even gave up and let yourself be killed without a fight, just like Dumbledore's Martyr example to you. Dumbledore was already dying due to the curse on his hand. But before going out, he showed you how to be a proper martyr, while trying to redeem Malfoy once more. It seems his final lesson stuck a bit too much."

Harry was feeling sick at the thought that Dumbledore had basically programmed him to die, while at the same time doing everything he could to redeem Malfoy and keep him alive.

Why was Dumbledore always trying to save the enemy, while their own people kept being killed? Dumbledore was happy to send Harry to his death, but struggled so much to keep a bigot and killer like Malfoy alive. Why?

"Why didn't you try to sneak up with your invisibility cloak and kill Riddle from ambush? Even if you failed in your effort, at least you still had a better chance of winning than taking a curse to the face."

"Why did you think you had to destroy all the Horcrux before you could do anything to Riddle? When you were a baby and Riddle lost his body, he was gone for over a decade before he came back. He had Horcruxes then, and it gave the world over a decade of peace when his body was destroyed. Why not destroy his body once more? That would have given you at least another decade to find the Horcrux?"

"And even if you never directly fought Riddle, you could have done something about his Deatheaters. Without his army, Riddle wouldn't have nearly as much of an impact on the Wizarding world as he did."

Harry's mind was reeling with all the questions and doubts. Why hadn't they fought the war in a smarter manner? So many people had been packed off to the camps, to be killed like animals. So many people tortured and killed while he was on that bloody useless scavenger hunt, doing nothing. Why didn't he do things differently? Why did he follow Dumbledore's plan and run around trying to find the Horcrux? Why didn't he act more decisively and directly?

"Why are you even bringing all this up now? I'm dead." Harry flatly said. "It's not like I can do anything about it now."

A smile grew on Elohouken's face. "A very good and pertinent question. Normally when people pass away, that is the end of their mortal life. But you Harry? You had a prophecy, and you had a destiny. The destiny was slightly different from what the prophecy proclaimed, but it was decided that your destiny must come to pass. Don't ask me why, that is information that I'm not even privileged with at my level. But as a result, every time you've died in your misadventures, you've been given another chance to go back and do it right. To date, you have been sent back six times so far."

"But, how come I don't remember it?" Harry plaintively asked. He was feeling a bit put upon. Having some destiny that he had to fulfill, but apparently not given any help to do so.

"Stupid rules, mostly. They try to get away with as little meddling as possible. Silly, really. It's something that I've been quite against. If you don't know what you're doing wrong, how can you change? My personal philosophy is 'Why settle for a nudge when a good hard shove will make sure the job is done?' Or something along those lines. I'm not usually allowed the shove, due to rules. Well, now that you're facing your seventh death, the rules change a bit, and I get some more leeway to apply that shove."

"Now, since this is your seventh death, it's your last chance. The last time you'll get to be sent back to get it right. If you die again before fulfilling your destiny, you lose. And if you lose, so do all your friends and family. More importantly, if you fail, I lose my office with the view." Elohouken gestured at the window. "And I am not about to let your failure lose everything I worked so hard for." He sternly growled.

"It is an amazing view." Harry wistfully said while staring at the curtained window.

"Indeed." Elohouken nodded with a wistful look on his face too, before snapping out of it.

"First of all I'll give you the broad strokes of your destiny so you know how bad things had been twisted away from what they were supposed to be." Elohouken briskly stated. "First off, you were supposed to be raised by your Godfather and his Werewolf friend. They would have raised you with plenty of self confidence, knowledge of magic, and political connections. There would have been a generous dollop of compassion for the downtrodden in your raising so that you would have been open to making friends from all walks of life. With your background, attitude, and power, it would have been much harder for Voldemort to gather forces once he did manage to come back."

Harry scowled at hearing how he should never have been sent to the Dursleys, and that Sirius should have been free all that time. He would also have had Remus as an uncle, and learned lots growing up.

"Then you would have gone to Hogwarts, met your soulmate-"

"Ginny." Harry whispered.

"What? No!" Elohouken exclaimed loudly. "No no no. Your soul mate was some Granger girl, not some ginger girl." He snorted in laughter. "Can't believe how wrong you got it there. If you had been raised properly with loving parents and siblings, you wouldn't have fallen in with Molly Weasley's idea of one big happy family. When you go back, make a note to practice potions detection charms and don't eat anything without checking it. Even if you personally cooked it, double check it."

Harry gaped for a bit at the information he was given. But as he searched his feelings, he realized it was true. He no longer felt anything for Ginny. Was that the effect of no longer having potions in his system?

He was reminded how he hadn't thought much of her before fifth year, when he all of a suddenly started noticing when Ginny was dating people. And then in sixth year he was feeling really jealous of any male around her. If that was the effect of potions, he really needed to be on his guard. It had been so gradual he hadn't even noticed the change in his attitude when it was happening. Talk about boiling a frog.

Harry then examined his feelings for Hermione. They had their differences, and both had done some things to cheese each other off. But he couldn't imagine his life without her in it. He felt an inordinate amount of affection for her. Even when her bushy hair had been all over the place and she had large front teeth, he thought she was cute.

He then thought about what he felt about her dating other people, like Victor Krum or Ron Weasley. Even the smallest hint of losing her gave him a sinking sensation in his stomach, like he was losing the most precious thing in the world to him. He still wasn't sure exactly what love felt like, but he figured what he felt for Hermione came the closest.

Harry nodded soberly. It wasn't until Elohouken had pointed it out that he had realized how naïve he'd been all his life. How much he didn't understand about people and interacting with them. How he had let so many opportunities pass him by, and been led around by the nose by anyone who cared to manipulate him.

"So with your soulmate locked in by finally kissing her for the first time, your magical knowledge and power growing through hard work and study, and the political connections your name and family brought, you would have absolutely destroyed Riddle, got married, had a lot of sprogs, and died at a respectable 142 years old."

Harry smiled a bit wistfully at hearing that he was destined to have a family and live to enjoy it. He suddenly shook his head in dismay.

"But I'm so far behind Riddle in skill and knowledge? How can I possibly win? Especially without getting so many people killed?"

"Good. I'm glad to see you are finally thinking proactively." Elohouken nodded. "So, I've got a general plan laid out for you. Despite being given the green light for the 'shove' I still have some limits with how far I can go. I can't send you back too far in time. But I can manage to send you back to the summer before your fourth year. You'll get to keep all your memories so you won't be bumbling around so much this time around. Do something about your Godfather. Kiss your soulmate to initiate the bonding. Study hard, and don't let Voldemort gain power again."

"The other thing I can do is gift you with a number of powers as helps. It's not anything I'm directly doing, so it is allowed. Here's a list for you to pick from." Elohouken handed Harry a data pad. It took Harry a few minutes to figure out how to use it with some tips from the Death Reaper, since Harry wasn't familiar with technology.

Harry looked at the document for a bit, before looking up and asking the first question that popped into his mind. "What's a CYOA?"

"It stands for Choose Your Own Adventure. I borrowed those documents from some other department of the Afterlife Placement. They've been playing with the idea of sending people to other realities with some powers bought from those lists so they can make a difference in the world they go to."

"Huh, so I can choose powers from any of these documents?" Harry intently asked, looking at the thousands and thousands of documents that populated the list.

"Yup. Normally you would only get to choose from powers for the world you are in. But, like I said, I don't believe in using a gentle nudge to accomplish something when a wrecking ball will do the job nicely."

Harry looked over the sheer number of documents, and thought back to how Hermione would handle such a situation. That required a lot of reading. He looked back up at Elohouken. "This might take me a while to pick and choose."

Elohouken smiled and waved his hand dismissively. "Take your time. The world is paused in time while we discuss matters. It won't start up again until we send you back in time. It'll be like the world record skipped and it'll be 1994 again."

"Oh. Okay." Harry blankly replied. It was almost too good to be true. Once he finally came to terms with the good deal he was being offered, he smiled ferally before turning his attention back to the documents. It felt good that someone in authority finally had his back and was giving him the support he desperately needed.

"So, if some of these drawbacks assign me enemies to get more points to buy stuff, but the enemies don't exist in my world?" Harry eventually asked.

Elohouken smiled gleefully at Harry picking up on that loophole. He wasn't allowed to point out loopholes, but he could confirm them. "Then, unless they have the ability to travel the omniverse, they will just be very angry but unable to do anything about it."

"Cool." Harry grinned back at Elohouken. Harry was starting to like the way his Guardian Angel/Death Reaper did things. Harry dropped his head back down to the documents in front of him while Elohouken started playing solitaire on his computer.

* * *

[AN: When I first came across all these Reptilia28 challenge fics I enjoyed them a lot. But the question was always in the back of my mind, "How do they expect him to do any better at the life they keep sending him back to if they never change the circumstances?"

I always felt so incredibly indignant on Harry's behalf 'cause there's these Reapers that are pissed off and biting his head off over something that _they_ did. They erased his memories, ensuring he would never learn any better, and then just chucked him into the deep end.

It's like Obliviating a muggle of any instances of magic they had ever seen and then yelling at them for not taking precautions against wizards.

And even when they do send him back with his memories, rarely do they ever give him any gift packages. Maybe some mind protections so the uber manipulative people all around couldn't read his mind and get more things to manipulate him over. But that's it! They never give him the good stuff!

So, if I ever continued this fic, it wouldn't really be a long one. Cause Harry is gonna get some awesome powers and just steamroller everyone. All so Elohouken can keep his window with a view, lol.

Of course after saying all that, I realize that I should qualify what I've said by mentioning that all those authors that actually have written a full length Reptilia28 challenge are awesome. I enjoy reading their fics, and would love to see more. It's hard to come up with any kind of tension in a story if you give Harry ALL THE POWERZ right from the get go. It would be like playing a video game and entering the cheat code to instantly beat the final boss. Where is the fun in that? You play a game cause you like actually playing the game!]


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